


The Arcana Ficlets

by kris_writes



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst, Bisexuality, Blood Kink, Fluff, Love Bites, Masochism, Multi, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-18
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-01-19 06:19:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 393
Words: 191,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12404784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kris_writes/pseuds/kris_writes
Summary: A selection of ficlets/prompt requests from Tumblr - drdevorakwrites where my askbox is always open!





	1. Julian x F!Apprentice 1.

3\. Kissing so desperately that their whole body curves into the other persons. 

* * *

Her previously perfect hair stuck to her face, slick with sweat. The tiny bedroom was _roasting_ in the thick, unforgiving Vesuvian heat.   


As uncomfortable as she was, she could hardly complain, for she was face-to-face with the most beautiful man she’d ever laid her eyes on. That devilish, crooked grin signaled that Julian was up to no good, and she liked it.  

Long, talented fingers drew lazy circles on the bare, slick skin at the base of her spine. He cocked his eyebrow when she fidgeted against him, unable to keep herself from writhing beneath his touch. No matter how much she tried to keep her cool, her body always betrayed her.

Julian licked his lips, her eyes following the gesture. In a flash their movements became untamed, hands grabbing at hair and necks and at the sheets that covered their naked bodies.  
  
She _ached_ as his body arched into hers. He was hard. 

He trailed open-mouthed kisses along her clavicle, travelling up toward her throat, then jaw. She clawed desperately at his solid shoulders, _praying_ that she drew blood. He hissed through clenched teeth when she did, hips bucking into her own as the pain gripped him.   


Julian looked down and admired the harsh, red scratches that lined his shoulder, a small trail of blood slowly making it’s way down his chest. He grinned, a shit-eating grin that told her she’d done an _excellent_ job. 

He growled, grabbing her thighs and hitching them around his waist. “Come here,” he whispered, eye blown-black and voice thick with lust.  
  
They gasped against each others lips as she lowered herself onto him, fingers clawing and slipping on sweaty skin.  
  
He watched her move on top of him, brushing her hair away from her face, that crooked smile returning as she dug long nails into his chest.   



	2. Nadia x F!Apprentice 1.

18\. Kisses where one person is in the others lap.

_____

The sound of soft footsteps drew closer to the door, followed by a light, but strangely desperate knock. 

She set aside her book and grabbed the candle from the side table, tugging her loose robe closed. She cautiously cracked the door, relaxing in an instant when Nadia’s face came into view.

The countess took one look at her and swiftly barged into her bedroom, gliding toward the chaise, nightgown flowing behind her. 

She sat, long, _long_ legs crossed, hands daintily clasped in her lap. Her intense red eyes were unusually sad, scared even. It was disarming seeing her this vulnerable. 

“Nadia, what is it? Te—“

“Sit with me, would you?” Nadia interrupted. “I can’t sleep, I need…”

Before Nadia could finish her sentence she had crossed the room and taken a seat next to her, their thighs touching. She heard the hitch in Nadia’s breath, saw the slight flush rise in her cheeks. “Come now, don’t be shy. I need you closer.” 

There it was, that confidence, that _power_ that sent shivers down her spine. 

Nadia grabbed her wrist, tugging her straight into her lap. She straddled Nadia’s thighs, the silk of her expensive nightgown soft against her bare legs. Nadia raised a hand to cup her jaw, their faces deathly close, close enough that she could practically taste her. 

She wanted to kiss her, _really_ kiss her, regardless of what Nadia might think about it in this place and time.

“I cannot sleep, you see. My thoughts are racing,” Nadia whispered, her tongue darting out to wet her bottom lip. “All I can think about is _you._ ” 

Whatever control she’d managed to retain slipped away in that moment, with those simple words. She thought, “Fuck this.” 

Maybe she’d even thought it out-loud.

So then, she kissed her, and she felt like she was falling apart. 

Suddenly she felt alive, stars bursting behind her eyelids. Nadia gently whimpered beneath her in response, hands fisting her robe, bodies pressed tight. 

They eventually broke apart, still staying wrapped up in each other’s arms. 

They drank wine, smoked, talked, laughed, exchanged tender touches and watched the sky turn from black, to purple, to blue until Nadia fell asleep on her shoulder, the soft rise and fall of her chest lulling her into a deep sleep of her own. 


	3. Julian x M!Apprentice 1.

It wasn’t the acrid smell of rot and decay that pulled him from his slumber, it was the incessant drip, drip, drip of the broken pipe in the corner of the cell. It rung in his ears as he stirred awake, head pounding and hand burning.

  
Despair washed over him in waves as his memories started to flicker back in hazy, blurred fragments, his breath catching in his lungs.

  
Asra, his face a shadow, cast in a blaze of orange and red, the heat so intense he felt like his skin would peel off as he reached for him. Those screams, a noise so unnatural it made his skin crawl.   
He remembered the witches last words to him, cutting him like a knife, his expression pained, as if he were forcing his cruelty.

  
“This is all your fault, Ilya.”

  
He raised his hand to his face, studying the angry shape upon his skin, red and black and forever.

  
Murderer.

  
“No…” he choked, falling to his knees, the cold, hard ground biting into his skin.

  
It was then he began to scream.

  
~ ~ ~

  
“Julian! It’s okay, it’s okay… you’re safe, I’ve got you.”

  
The soft voice tugged him gently from his nightmare, a warm hand stroking his hair back from his sweaty forehead, the other tracing soothing circles on his bare chest.

  
“I’m sorry, I… I’m sorry,” he sighed, ashamed that he’d disturbed his sleep yet again.

  
He smiled and cupped Julian’s face, his thumb idly stroking his cheek. “It’s fine, you’re fine.”

  
What has he done to deserve this? Truly, he still didn’t understand this mess, but the one good thing to come out of this was this man. This man who loved him irrevocably, without hesitation or trepidation, even in this strange circumstance they found themselves in. 

Eventually, he found himself wrapped up in his arms, the soothing sound of his humming gently lulling him into a sleep that no nightmare would stir him from. 

Maybe it was magic, or maybe it was love.


	4. Julian x M!Apprentice 2.

He fussed with his fancy, emerald green suit, constantly peeking around the corner to see if there was any sign of the doctor.

  
Portia appeared, looking radiant, smiling from ear-to-ear. “Well don’t you just look gorgeous? Come here,” she said, pulling him in for a comforting, definitely too-tight hug.

  
“Thanks,” he said. “You too.”

  
His mind was definitely elsewhere as Portia talked at him, her voice fading into a mere whisper as the music started.   
What if he didn’t show? What if he’d changed his mind? It was dangerous, after all…

  
Then, he spotted him. That unmistakable shock of red hair, his devastatingly handsome face looking bewildered and he stumbled upon too-long legs in his general direction.

  
Julian smiled as he zoned-in on him, his wide-eye surveying his whole body with one, swooping glance.

  
“Uhm… fuck,” he chuckled, cheeks flaring as red as the lining of his coat. He reached out and grabbed his hand, making a quick recovery as he pressed smirking lips to his knuckles.

  
“Hello, handsome,” he grinned, laughing as Julian flushed an even deeper shade of red.

  
“You look…incredible,” Julian groaned, a glisten in his eye that he knew all too well.

  
Portia quickly rushed over, ushering them into a darkened corner of the ballroom. “Stay,” she commanded, leaving them without so much as a second glance.

  
They watched the band start to play, everyone gathering in the space they’d just stood. Julian wrapped an unsteady hand around his waist, hooking a finger into his belt loop and tugging him close into his side as they swayed together to the music.

  
~ ~ ~

  
They practically sprinted out into the garden as the dancing started, Julian grabbing his hand instinctively.

  
He felt his stomach flip as he gazed up at Julian, who glanced down at their entwined hands, a beautiful, content look crossing his face.

  
If that look was what he would get every time he crossed a boundary, broke the rules, he was happy to do it again, again, again.

  
He walked Julian backwards, pressing him against a crumbling stone wall. The doctors breath hitched and he drew his bottom lip between his teeth.

  
He leaned forward, his lips ghosting against the shell of Julian’s ear, whispering a simple, “Let’s get out of here.”

  
Julian moaned, closing his eye, his brow furrowed as he slowly nodded his agreement.

  
He grabbed Julian’s hand and squeezed it tight, ready to pull him away and into the night.

  
The sound of footsteps approaching snapped them out of their little moment, Julian’s breath hitching as he pressed his body closer to the wall.

  
The footsteps drew nearer and he could see Julian begin to panic, his hands shaking. He quickly turned to try and calm him down, doing the only thing he could think of in that moment.

  
He pressed his lips greedily against Julian’s, clumsy and hasty and needy. Julian’s hand flew to the back of his neck, groaning as he pulled him closer, all tounges and teeth.

  
The footsteps stopped for a moment, the person mumbling something before turning and retreating.

  
He smirked, turning his head from Julian, who raised his fingers to press them against kiss-reddened lips.

  
“I love you,” Julian said, blushing profusely once more.


	5. Julian x M!Apprentice 3.

He felt Julian watching him as he opened heavy eyes, the bright morning light that streamed through the gauzy curtains causing him to squint.

  
Julian was sat-up against the headboard, worry etched all over his handsome face, idly rubbing the silky bedsheet between his fingers.

  
He rubbed the sleep from his lids, pulling himself up to get a better look at the doctor.

  
“What is it? What’s wrong?” He whispered, voice thick with sleep.

  
Julian sniffled, turning his head away.   
He caught sight of his his bottom lip quivering, then a tell-tale trickle down his cheek.

  
“Julian…” He reached out, tugging at his bare shoulder, willing him to turn to meet his gaze. “Please don’t cry.”

  
Julian turned, eye glassy and cheek wet. He tried to say something, but all that came out was a quiet whimper.

  
He grabbed him then, a too-tight embrace, limbs tangling. “We’ll be together again before you know it.”


	6. Julian x Asra x M!Apprentice 1.

The realisation hit him like a tidal wave, the contrasting emotions flickering and changing in an instant. He felt so stupid, cheeks burning hot, hot, _hot_.

  
Of course. He’d known all along, just chose to be oblivious, to pretend it wasn’t real.

  
Him and Asra, they’d been together, Julian had _loved_ him…

  
The two men stared at him in silence, exchanging glances, Asra worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

  
Julian stepped forward, reaching out to tentatively brush long fingers across the back of his hand, before grabbing it tightly. He pulled it to his chest, grasping it like a lifeline.

  
“I love _you_. You must understand, it’s in the past…”

  
Asra shifted uncomfortably behind them, a mix of pain and confusion flickering across his features.

  
“I’m… I don’t know what I feel. I know there’s… there’s something inside me that pulls me toward both of you. I can’t explain it, but it’s crippling me.”

  
Asra stepped forward, placing his hand upon Julian’s shoulder. The doctor visibly flinched beneath his touch, or was it a shiver?

  
“Yes, Ilya and I were… together, for a time. It’s complicated, him and I, as is what once transpired between us,” he sighed, eyes clenched shut. “I cannot say too much, just know that I am here, I—“

  
“As am I,” Julian interrupted, his brow furrowed. “You have all of me,” he said, glaring at Asra, something passing between them.

  
Asra visibly recoiled, the words clearly stinging.

  
With his hand still pressed against the warmth of Julian’s chest, he reached out for Asra. His former master swallowed thickly, pausing before taking his hand. 

The three of them stood, cheeks flushed, eyes heavy. He broke the silence, heart pounding. “If you’ll take me, I am yours, both of yours…”


	7. Julian x M!Apprentice 4.

The comforting press of warm flesh against Julian’s chest woke him with a start.

He panicked for a moment, suddenly transported back to a time he’d rather forget, a time when another man used to lay in his arms.

  
This was different, though. This man didn’t flinch away from his touch, didn’t roll his eyes and fake a smile.

  
Julian quickly realised where he was, who he was with, and sank into the embrace, arms tightening around a slim waist. He smiled to himself at the soft, sleepy breaths falling from pursed lips, their chest slowly rising and falling.

  
He pressed closer, sinking his nose into a mess of hair, greedily inhaling. The body shivered against him, causing his breath to hitch.

  
He relished in the closeness, the simple intimacy that was so natural. Slowly he turned in Julian’s arms, a delicious, lazy smile on his lips. He nuzzled his face into his neck, sighing a muffled ‘good morning’.

  
In that moment, as Julian pressed his lips to his forehead, nothing else mattered.


	8. Julian x M!Apprentice 5.

The evening was dull, lifeless, at least in his eyes. It was hard to appreciate any of the vibrance or opulence that surrounded him while his thoughts wanderered hopelessly to Julian.

  
His touch still lingered, though it had been days since they’d indulged in each other, a drawn-out goodbye with a whispered ‘I love you’, and a kiss he would never forget, nor try to.

  
He swirled the amber liquid in his cup, sighing as the band started to play a slow, almost sad song.

  
Long, delicate fingers wrapped themselves around his glass, prying it from his grip. He looked up, a familiar handsome face greeting him with that devilish grin. Those grey-blue eyes sparkled, his eyebrow quirked in question.

  
“May I have this dance?” He smirked, unruly red hair falling in his face. He wiggled his fingers, gloved hand held out, awaiting its partner.

  
He scoffed a laugh, unable to stifle the grin that twitched at his lips. He took Julian’s hand without question, without hesitation.

  
Bodies pressed close, they swirled under the sparkling lights, their feet moving in perfect synchronisation. As he stared into his lovers eyes, he felt his chest tighten, the overwhelming love his felt for this man pressing down on him, making him dizzy.

  
“You shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe…”

  
Julian tightened his grip around his waist, pulling him closer, tight enough to make him catch his breath. “Just let me have this, I beg you.”

  
He nodded, swallowing away the lump that had formed in his throat, allowing himself to be spun, swept away, lest it be the last time he found himself in Julian’s arms.


	9. Julian x M!Apprentice 6

The first time it caught him so off-guard that he’d dropped a full crate of potions.

The feel of those full lips upon his skin, a smirk forming as Julian pulled away, grey-blue eye glancing down at the colourful puddle on the floor.

  
“Made quite the mess there, didn’t you?”  
He could feel his cheeks burning under the doctors devilish gaze.

  
The second time he was less startled, though certainly no less flustered. They sat side-by-side in the tavern, Julian’s arm tactfully draped across the back of their seat, long fingers idly brushing the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine.

  
He felt Julian’s gaze burning into him as he gripped his tankard ever tighter, resisting the urge to reach out, to grab him, to take him…

  
Julian leaned in close, a shock of red hair and glistening teeth. He smiled, devastatingly handsome in the candle light, the sharp angle of his jaw tightening, twitching.

  
His breath caught in his throat as Julian pressed his lips against his cheek, dangerously close to the corner of his mouth. If he just turned a little…

  
By the third time he’d grown wise to it, that glint in his eye, the way he angled his body, the quirk of his lips.

  
Julian gasped against his mouth as he turned, lips pressed deliciously together.

He watched as Julian quickly accepted that he’d been bested, his wide eye fluttering shut as he sank into the kiss.

Long, dark eyelashes brushed atop reddening cheeks, fingers lacing into hair, bodies pressed close.


	10. Julian x Apprentice

  


_2\. Moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed.  
_ _14.  Starting with a kiss meant to be gentle, ending up in passion._

* * *

They were drunk, the alcohol flowing through their veins driving them to claw at each other, a hunger between them so much more intense than they’d normally allow. It was still new, this _thing,_ still fresh with that slight hint of innocence. 

Not for much longer, apparently, for there was nothing like a bit of dutch courage.

They shoved Julian into the wall, their mouths fighting for dominance. His head cracked against the plaster, motes of dust swirling around him. He responded in kind, relishing in the sharp pain that shot through to the base of his skull. He groaned as they fisted a handful of his hair, the low sound reverberating between them.

They grabbed at his shirt, carelessly tearing it from his body, hands roaming over his newly bared chest, eyes wide, bottom lip dragged between teeth as they studied him. 

Julian’s breath hitched, he was _dizzy_ from the contact, his head swimming with a thousand thoughts, none of them innocent. Impatience began to buzz beneath his skin, fighting the urge to grab and take, take, _take_. 

He noticed the soft, pink flush blooming upon their chest and grabbed their wrists in a death grip. A questioning look crossed their face as his fingers pressed _hard_ against their racing pulse. 

He pulled them close, stilling them in an attempt to catch his breath, lest he lose it completely. Then, he made the mistake of looking into their eyes, their pupils blown-black, the beautiful gold of their irises barely visible. He crumbled,  _moaning_ as their lips met once more. 

They were seamed so tightly Julian could feel their heartbeat against his chest, the rasp of nails on fabric, trailing down the front of his trousers where, _fuck,_  he was so goddamn hard. Their lips parted and they licked into the seam of his mouth, trailing his bottom lip with a clever tongue, slow and deep and _wet_. 

Julian could do nothing but helplessly arch against them, the taste, the touch, the _smell_ of them surrounding him, driving him insane. His thoughts were finally lost as deft hands reached around to grab at his ass, pulling him tighter against them, if that were even possible at this point. They moved in a counter-rhythm, a mess of moving hips and _heat_. 

He had no words for this; the intensity, the overwhelming, all-consuming lust, or was it love? It was _something_ that flowed so easily between them. 

They stumbled towards the chaise that sat against the far wall, hands never leaving one another’s bodies along the way, the thought of breaking contact almost causing Julian physical pain. They fell back, fumbling to finish undressing one another, an intense need for the feel of skin-on-skin. 

Their grip on Julian’s hips was so tight it hurt, but that just made it better, just made him want to _struggle._ He wanted to have those fingers pressed so tight they _bruise._  


This certainly wasn’t their first time, but it felt like it as Julian entered them, the breath leaving his lungs in a strangled gasp as he surged forward, sheathed deliciously to the hilt. Their knees tightened around his hips, fingers digging _hard_ into his broad shoulders. 

They looked up at him through ridiculously long, dark lashes, lips parted on a breath. 

“You’ll be the death of me,” Julian groaned. The pleasure of it all was almost too much, almost more than he could handle, his entire body on _fire_. 

Julian felt that bloom of pressure building in the pit of his stomach, that breathless ache as they came _loudly_ beneath him. The world swiftly whited-out around Julian as his own orgasm chased theirs, his toes curling, fingers practically ripping the bedsheet, heart beating frantically in his chest. 

He fell beside them, both of them panting and smiling and _perfect_. 

Julian’s head span, if it was the alcohol, or something else, he couldn’t be sure. 

What he could be sure of, however, is how infinitely _happy_ he felt in this moment, sated,  _free_ , and in the arms of someone he could be himself with. 


	11. Asra x nb!Apprentice 1.

6\. Lazy morning kisses before they’ve even opened their eyes, still mumbling half-incoherently, not wanting to wake up.

_____

Asra woke to a warm body curled into his side, a protective arm flung over his waist, fingers twitching upon bare skin as they dreamt. 

He smiled, propping himself up onto his elbow to admire them, careful not to disturb their slumber. They looked so peaceful, so _content_ , their chest rising and falling with light, even breaths. 

Their nose crinkled, brow furrowing and lips parting, mumbling something incoherent about… snakes? He chuckled to himself, unable to resist reaching out to brush away the frown, fingertips lightly caressing their brow. They stirred under his touch, eyes slowly opening. 

“Sorry, my love. You were talking in your sleep,” he whispered, leaning down to place a kiss upon their nose. “You know I cannot resist you.” 

They stretched languidly, yawning and entangling their legs with his as they tugged him closer, nuzzling their face into his neck. 

Asra placed a finger beneath their chin, tilting their head so he could press his lips against theirs. They mumbled, smiling into the kiss before returning their face to the warmth of his neck, their hand tracing lazy circles upon his chest.


	12. Julian x M!Apprentice 7.

18\. Kisses where one person is sitting in the others lap. 

_____

Julian was in a particularly good mood this evening. 

He sat in his favourite booth in the Rowdy Raven, a tankard of (not terrible) ale cradled between his palms, thoughts of the handsome apprentice ravishing his mind. 

The last time they’d met had been… _interesting_ , to say the least. He touched a finger to his lips like a lovestruck teenager, remembering the way a kiss has been pressed there. He longed to see him again, a sly smile playing at his lips as his mind wandered once more. 

As if by magic, the rickety old door flew open with a slam, and there he was. 

Julian straightened in an instant, a quick surge of affection washing over him as the apprentice spotted him, a wide grin crossing clever lips. 

He slid into the booth beside him, knees knocking, a cold hand grasping his tightly. Julian flushed, unable to prevent it. 

“Hello, Doctor,” he whispered, his breath warm upon his cheek.

Julian licked his lips. “I thought my evening couldn’t get any better, and yet here you are.”

“It can get a _little_ better,” he mumbled. 

Julian detected a slight slur in his words, maybe even a hint of whiskey on his breath. His suspicions were confirmed when he climbed into his lap, his arms sneaking around Julian’s neck. 

“Whiskey? What’s the occasion?” 

He sighed, eyes rolling. “Nadia. There was a dinner, it was utterly boring. I snuck out, I.. I missed you.” 

With that, Julian pulled him close, closing that unbearable gap between them with a crushing kiss. They broke apart, Julian relishing in the sight of his kiss-reddened lips, the pink cheeks. 

He had done that to him. 

He smirked, his night suddenly infinitely more exciting.


	13. Asra x F!Apprentice 1.

11\. When one stops the kiss to whisper “I’m sorry, are you sure you…” and they answer by kissing them more

13\. Following the kiss with a series of kisses down their neck. 

________

Arms snaked around her waist, and she smiled as Asra’s lips found her neck. “I’m kinda busy here.”

He sighed, smiling into her skin. “Oh, really?”

She giggled, reaching back to scratch his messy hair with her fingernails.

“Mmm. Do you think you can pry yourself away?”

“I think I can, actually,” she smirked, twisting herself to face him and placing a quick kiss upon his lips. His body _buzzed,_ that familiar, otherworldly sensation setting every nerve in his body alight as her eyes met his. 

She twisted herself from his grip, an impish grin on her lips as she turned and ran.

He found her in the bathroom, the steam from the shower leaking under the door like an invitation.

Asra entered the room and watched her until he couldn’t take it anymore. She glistened in the dim candlelight, hair clinging to her back in waves.

He swiftly discarded his clothes, stepping in the tub to join her. He quietly studied her body as if it was the first time, just checking he still had all her freckles and dimples memorized.

She groaned as he reached out to cup her breasts. His mouth found her nipple, lapping and sucking as the water flowed over her.

She pushed her body against his, _arching_ into him. Their lips met, all passion and hunger. He pulled away, causing her to whimper at the loss of contact. “Sorry, I… is this okay?”

She smiled softly, crushing her lips against his in response, her hand pandering between his legs, eyes looking for an answer. He nodded, exhaling as her hand wrapped around him, stroking slowly, carefully.

He wound his arms around her, groaning into her neck, placing greedy, open-mouthed kisses upon her slick skin. “I need you,” he whispered, breathless.

She nipped at his shoulder, her fingernails gently running trails up and down his back. 

He turned off the water, the old pipes creaking in protest. He picked her up, her legs wrapping around his waist as he carefully stepped out of the tub. 

They fell to the floor, a delicious tangle of limbs. “I want you to say it,” he whispered. 

“ _Please,_ Asra,” she purred, eyelids heavy, voice thick with lust. 

They both breathed a sigh of relief as he entered her, the bliss of being connected overwhelming their senses. 

Asra always found it hard to concentrate when he was around her, especially like this. The sensation of her nails on his back, her mouth at his neck, her _hot_ beneath him almost too much all at once.

He held back as long as he could, waiting for her to reach her climax before he would allow himself to finish.

Her, always _her._

He felt her legs begin to tremble around him, biting her lip like she always did.

Asra closed his eyes, not being able to look at her in this moment. She was too perfect, too free, and not helping his plight to last longer.

As she unfurled, gasping under him, he finally let go. That white-hot heat flashing behind his eyelids. 

“I love you,” he whispered, brushing stray strands of hair from her cheek, his lips leaving a trail of kisses from the line of her jaw to the hollow of her throat.


	14. Asra x nb!Apprentice 2.

1\. Breaking the kiss to say something, staying so close that you’re murmuring into each other’s mouths. 

+

2\. Moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto a bed

* * *

“I woke up three weeks ago and realized that I love you,” they said, Asra’s eyes widening at the confession. 

They threw themselves into his arms, mouths meeting in a crushing kiss. Still shocked, he mumbled against fierce lips. “You _remember_?” 

He was terrified. Why? Because it wasn’t supposed to be like this. This was supposed to break them, and that… _that_ he could not handle. 

They stepped away, a confused look across their perfect face, plump lips deliciously kiss-reddened and parted. “Remember what?”  
  
He took a careful step toward them, realizing his mistake. They _loved_ him, again, without remembering everything that they once had. The knowledge almost floored him.

They looked nervous, hesitant in response to his silence. “Please don’t break my heart,” they whispered, bright eyes fluttering shut, hand clutching their chest. 

He shook his head, but they didn’t see. He had to find the words, and quick, lest he lose them forever. 

He took a tentative step forward, reaching out to place a finger beneath their chin, tilting their face up to look at him. He exhaled, overwhelmed as their eyes finally met again. “I do. Love you, I mean. You have no ide–” 

Before he could finish, they were in his arms again. They covered him, the rush of their lips upon his dizzying. The hard shove of their body pushed him backwards, arms flailing as they crashed against the wall, then to the edge of the bed. 

They grabbed at each other, desperate as they twirled in a dizzying circle of push and pull, until they finally found their place upon his mattress. 


	15. Lucio x M!Apprentice

2\. Moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed.

________

He stumbled into the dark, _dark_ room, that now strangely familiar smell of ashes and pepper filling his nostrils. His magic flared in his palm, as it always had when he visited. 

What was he doing here again? He couldn’t answer that, but something pulled at him each time he walked past the door, a sinister _need_ overtaking him, curiosity entirely getting the better of him. 

The first time he was terrified, the second intrigued, the third… well, now he’d lost count.

He heard musical, cocky laughter fill the room, a sadistic echo that made gooseflesh bloom all over his body. Then, a warm gust, his hair ruffling from the force of it. 

He stepped forward, lifting his glowing palm to illuminate the painting, biting his bottom lip as he laid eyes upon the man in the portrait. He’d stared at it so many times it was practically burned into his memory. 

_“They always come back for more.”_

A hoarse, ghostly whisper, followed by another sadistic chuckle. He shivered as ghostly fingers ran down the hollow of his throat, pushing him back against the painting, a light layer of ash raining down upon him. 

He suddenly felt hot, the air growing thick around him. He swallowed, trying to find the courage to speak. “Are you going to show yourself this time? I want to see you…”

Another laugh, a playful snicker, followed by a series of disapproving tuts. _“Now, now. We can’t always get what we wish for, what we dream of. You do dream of me, don’t you? Many do…”_

He stepped away from the painting, no longer feeling any hands upon him to keep him there. He felt the sudden urge to flee.

_“Ah, ah, ah. Going somewhere, are we?”_

Hot breath gusted over the back of his neck, then a pressure on his chest, tugging him tight against something solid that wasn’t there, _warm_ lips pressed against his, the non-existent body forcing him back onto the writing desk. He relaxed as invisible, talented hands ran down the plains of his chest, gratefully leaning into the contact, hearing the delicious rasp of metal against fabric.

This was madness, but he couldn’t help but enjoy it.


	16. Julian x M!Apprentice 8.

‘First time’ request. 

________

Julian sat on the edge of the bed, their gaze locking. He grabbed the hem of his shirt, tugged it over his head, carelessly discarding it.  
  
Before he realised what he was doing, he was reaching for Julian’s chest, palms splayed flat upon warm skin, feeling the shift of muscles. Julian grabbed his wrist in response, fingers gripping _tight_ , tight enough that he felt his pulse protesting. 

Julian bit his lip in that way that made him weak at the knees, the way that made him want to press _hard_ against him.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Julian whispered, practically a purr. 

He swallowed, his heart racing, a warm bloom of _something_ deep in his abdomen, something that made him want to reveal all his secrets, unravelling him. 

“Whenever I’m with you I feel like I’m dreaming,” he said, chest tightening. “Fuck… I _want_ you, Julian. More than I’ve ever wanted anything.” 

Julian’s eye widened, his lips parting on a breath. “Yes,” he nodded. “ _God,_ yes.” 

He started to unbutton his shirt, Julian watching every move with a silent reverence, his fingers twitching impatiently, clutching at the bedsheet as if he was restraining himself from reaching out and ripping it off of him. 

He closed the gap between them then, pushing Julian down onto the soft mattress, brushing hair from his face, ghosting fingers down his chest. He was beautiful, solid and _here_ , beneath him. 

Sometimes it felt like Julian wasn’t real, that he was just a figment, a fantasy. Yet here he was, real and _his._

Julian blinked, as if snapping himself from a daze, and flipped him over with ease, a determined growl falling from smirking lips. He worked the buckle of his trousers, never breaking their gaze. 

They slid beneath the soft sheets, limbs tangled, not an inch lost between them. 

Julian savoured him, leaving not a single centimetre of skin untouched, pressing his lips to every piece he unveiled. He was meticulous, _painfully_ so, to the point where he was sure to burst if Julian didn’t do something about it… fast. 

“Please, I _need_ you,” he whimpered, impatient. Julian looked up at him with a wolfish grin, face pressed against the inside of his thigh, impossibly long, dark lashes fluttering against the sharp line of his cheekbone. 

“And you shall have me,” Julian purred. “They say patience is a virtue, but I’m glad to find that you have none.” 

He arched his back as Julian continued to tease him, the onslaught of pleasure rolling over him like a tidal wave. 

When Julian finally entered him it felt _right,_ like the most natural thing in the world, his heart pounding gratefully in his ribcage. Julian’s head fell to his shoulder, muttering a string of curses under his breath as he moved above him. 

Julian had never looked more beautiful, more devastating, as he did in this moment. The furrow in his brow, the light flush that ran from the tips of his ears to the top of his chest, the way sinewy lines of muscle stirred beneath sweat-slicked skin. 

Julian’s hand snaked between them, grabbing him and stroking in time with the movement of his hips, the world slowly beginning to fall apart around them as they unravelled. 

They came undone together, unrestrained cries of pleasure swallowed by hungry kisses. Afterward, as they lay in each other’s arms, as the world fell back into place, everything felt _right_. 

This was exactly where they were supposed to be, it seemed.


	17. Julian x M!Apprentice 9.

“The Doctor _will_ die on the gallows.” 

The only thing he could hear was the pounding of his heart, loud as a drum in his ears.

He tried to stay expressionless, calm, the hot well of tears forming in his eyes threatening to expose him in an instant.   
If he were to speak at this very second, Nadia would know.

She would know he was in love with the man she’d branded a murderer, with the man whose neck she longed to see snapped by the hangman’s noose.

  
His eyes darted to Portia, her cheeks blooming red, tears falling freely down her face. She swiped them away quickly, passing the gesture off as casual as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Her eyes widened, pleading with him, desperate.

  
Her brother. He had promised her he would protect him, no matter the cost. 

He swallowed away the thick lump that had formed in his throat, praying his voice wouldn’t betray him. “There’s no sufficient evidence to warrant hanging the Doctor. At this point, it could be anyone.”

  
Nadia bristled, bright red eyes narrowing. “ _Anyone_ , you say?”

  
He nodded, quick, confident.

  
Nadia chuffed a laugh, her perfectly sculpted eyebrow arching. “So, even _you_ , then?”

  
She was toying with him now.

  
He smiled politely, hiding the pain that begged to betray his features, the searing agony that suffocated him as he imagined Julian being led to his death, _his_ Julian. He knew he would gladly implicate himself to save him.

  
“Anyone.”


	18. Julian x M!Apprentice 10. (Asrian undertones)

Julian ran his finger along the surface of the bookshelf, a light layer of dust coating his digit. He sighed, tilting his head to survey his surroundings. 

The colourful scarves, throws and pillows that were haphazardly strewn across the bed, as if he’d left in a rush. The way the last rays of sunshine poked through the gauzy curtains, the blotches of ink upon unfinished letters on the desk. Everything in this room made his heart _ache_ , memories of a time where he thought he was loved, hell, he would have even taken _liked_.

Alas, that was the problem with their arrangement; Julian giving everything, and Asra take, take, _taking._

He frowned, feeling stupid for even coming in here. He gazed down at his hand, the faint, jagged pink scar that cut almost perfectly through his heart line. He clenched his fist, nails digging _hard_ into the healed wound. 

“Julian?”

He jumped at the sound of his voice, the man who had saved him, who _would_ save him. “In here.” 

He appeared in the doorway, bare-chested and beautiful, fresh from a bath. He rubbed his messy, wet hair with a towel, little droplets of water visible upon soft skin.

Julian smiled despite his mood, unable to suppress that _joy_ that bloomed whenever this man was near. 

He frowned, eyes flickering around Asra’s room. “Are you okay? Do you need to talk?” 

Julian shook his head, taking one last look at the witches belongings before stepping into the hallway and closing the door. 

“This was never right, this… _thing_ Asra and I had,” he sighed, gesturing back toward the room with a dismissive flick of his wrist. 

Then, Julian grinned, that half-smirk, half-snarl that the apprentice seemed to appreciate. He pressed his hands upon his bare chest, still damp despite his efforts at drying himself. Julian leaned in, then, his lips but a breath away from his ear as he whispered, “I am yours, and _only_ yours. You’ve shown me what it means to be cared for.” 

Then, as if they had seen every deep, dark part of his soul, read every lonely thought and felt all of that overwhelming longing… 

“I love you, Julian. _Always_.”


	19. Julian x nb!Apprentice 3.

  


_2\. Moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed.  
_ _14.  Starting with a kiss meant to be gentle, ending up in passion._

* * *

They were drunk, the alcohol flowing through their veins driving them to claw at each other, a hunger between them so much more intense than they’d normally allow. It was still new, this _thing,_ still fresh with that slight hint of innocence. 

Not for much longer, apparently, for there was nothing like a bit of dutch courage.

They shoved Julian into the wall, their mouths fighting for dominance. His head cracked against the plaster, motes of dust swirling around him. He responded in kind, relishing in the sharp pain that shot through to the base of his skull. He groaned as they fisted a handful of his hair, the low sound reverberating between them.

They grabbed at his shirt, carelessly tearing it from his body, hands roaming over his newly bared chest, eyes wide, bottom lip dragged between teeth as they studied him. 

Julian’s breath hitched, he was _dizzy_ from the contact, his head swimming with a thousand thoughts, none of them innocent. Impatience began to buzz beneath his skin, fighting the urge to grab and take, take, _take_. 

He noticed the soft, pink flush blooming upon their chest and grabbed their wrists in a death grip. A questioning look crossed their face as his fingers pressed _hard_ against their racing pulse. 

He pulled them close, stilling them in an attempt to catch his breath, lest he lose it completely. Then, he made the mistake of looking into their eyes, their pupils blown-black, the beautiful gold of their irises barely visible. He crumbled,  _moaning_ as their lips met once more. 

They were seamed so tightly Julian could feel their heartbeat against his chest, the rasp of nails on fabric, trailing down the front of his trousers where, _fuck,_  he was so goddamn hard. Their lips parted and they licked into the seam of his mouth, trailing his bottom lip with a clever tongue, slow and deep and _wet_. 

Julian could do nothing but helplessly arch against them, the taste, the touch, the _smell_ of them surrounding him, driving him insane. His thoughts were finally lost as deft hands reached around to grab at his ass, pulling him tighter against them, if that were even possible at this point. They moved in a counter-rhythm, a mess of moving hips and _heat_. 

He had no words for this; the intensity, the overwhelming, all-consuming lust, or was it love? It was _something_ that flowed so easily between them. 

They stumbled towards the chaise that sat against the far wall, hands never leaving one another’s bodies along the way, the thought of breaking contact almost causing Julian physical pain. They fell back, fumbling to finish undressing one another, an intense need for the feel of skin-on-skin. 

Their grip on Julian’s hips was so tight it hurt, but that just made it better, just made him want to _struggle._ He wanted to have those fingers pressed so tight they _bruise._  


This certainly wasn’t their first time, but it felt like it as Julian entered them, the breath leaving his lungs in a strangled gasp as he surged forward, sheathed deliciously to the hilt. Their knees tightened around his hips, fingers digging _hard_ into his broad shoulders. 

They looked up at him through ridiculously long, dark lashes, lips parted on a breath. 

“You’ll be the death of me,” Julian groaned. The pleasure of it all was almost too much, almost more than he could handle, his entire body on _fire_. 

Julian felt that bloom of pressure building in the pit of his stomach, that breathless ache as they came _loudly_ beneath him. The world swiftly whited-out around Julian as his own orgasm chased theirs, his toes curling, fingers practically ripping the bedsheet, heart beating frantically in his chest. 

He fell beside them, both of them panting and smiling and _perfect_. 

Julian’s head span, if it was the alcohol, or something else, he couldn’t be sure. 

What he could be sure of, however, is how infinitely _happy_ he felt in this moment, sated,  _free_ , and in the arms of someone he could be himself with. 


	20. Asra x nb!Apprentice 3.

They had loved him once, and it had been as easy as breathing. 

Every touch made gooseflesh bloom upon his skin, every kiss had left him breathless, wanting more, more, _more_. 

It was still that way, for Asra at least. Though, now he had to love them from a distance, watch confusion take over their features if he slipped up, said something he may have in that old life.

“I used to daydream about us, before we—“ Asra had said, lost in their eyes as they practised with the cards over the shop table, his heart in his throat as he realised his mistake. 

They stared at him, head tilted, lips pursed. They smiled, but it didn’t reach their eyes, they simply reached for the next card, fingertips touching. 

Asra felt the shock between them as they touched, but they did not. 

It was in that moment that he realised that what they once had was truly lost, and it was all his fault. 

He vowed to make them remember, one day. 

Remember the lazy mornings, tangled in messy sheets. Remember the easy morning strolls through the market, hands clasped over the bread makers table. Remember the _I love you_ ’s, his name falling from their lips like a prayer. 

”Asra?”

His head snapped up, lilac eyes meeting theirs. “Sorry, continue.” 

One day.


	21. Asra x nb!Apprentice 4.

**the lovers:** love, harmony, mutual attraction; “I love you so much.”  
________

The breath leaves their lungs as he appears, real, _here_. 

His presence may create more questions than answers, but all they can do is blink away the hot sting of tears and wrap themselves around him. They’ve waited for this moment for what feels like forever. 

Nadia’s red eyes piercing into the back of their skull, nor the presence of the nervously fidgeting guards does anything to stem the overwhelming _need_ they have to touch, feel, taste. 

Asra places his hand on the back of their head, fingers lacing through their hair, rubbing the soft strands together. His touch is so gentle, so missed. He presses his lips to their forehead; a silent promise for more, later. 

“I missed you too,” he chuckles, a whisper. 

“I love you so much, Asra,” they mumble, the words thick on their tongue. 

“As I love you.”

Easy, _right_.


	22. Asra & Nadia

Asra raised the glass of golden liquid to his nose, savouring the sweet, earthy aroma before taking a sip. 

She sure knew how to pick a good wine.

Nadia smiled, swirling the liquid around in her own glass. “I used to daydream about us, while you were gone. Anything to make life a little less dull.”

Asra stood, walking over to the window to look out at the gardens. He had fond memories of the palace, and… _not_ so fond ones. 

“I missed our talks, Nadi,” he sighed, pressing his forehead to the glass. “I’m sorry I didn’t get in touch, it’s… complicated.” 

He heard the clink of a glass being set down, then the shuffle of fabric as she stood, the sound of bare feet upon marble padding over to him. 

“Well, it would have been nice, but you’re here now,” she smiled, soft, genuine. She placed a perfectly manicured hand upon his shoulder, squeezing gently. “I’m so glad, Asra.” 

Asra gazed over at her, those kind eyes glittering, bringing him home again. 

He placed his hand on top of hers, both of them standing in comfortable silence as they watched the sun set.


	23. Julian x M!Apprentice 11.

“Wow, uhm… _wow_.”

He blinked up at Julian, lids still heavy, lips still parted. “Wow?” 

To be fair, it was a good kiss. A _really_ good kiss.

Julian’s pale skin was suddenly kissed pink, a beautiful blush blooming beneath lightly freckled cheeks. 

This man who had literally just shoved him against a wall, teeth bared, eyebrow cockily quirked, was _blushing_. 

Julian exhaled heavily, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. A nervous habit, maybe? 

“Julian,” he chuckled, reaching to grab his arm, lacing their fingers together. He pulled Julian _tight_ against him once more, the stone wall biting into his back. “Relax. I plan on doing that over, and over, and _over_ again.”

Julian bit his lip, visibly relaxing. He squared his shoulders and placed his hands either side of his head, trapping him. It was like someone had flicked a switch, a delicious confidence taking him over. 

He leaned down, lips but a breath away. “You… fluster me. I find it hard to relax, to _think_ around you. All I can think about is how much I want to kiss you… again.” 

“Then kiss me.”

Julian smirked, swiftly accepting his invitation.


	24. Julian x nb!Apprentice 4.

12\. Things you said when you thought I was asleep. 

________

They rested their head upon Julian’s shoulder, settling in to the broad, _safe_ nook. 

He pressed a kiss to their forehead, before nuzzling his nose into their hair, inhaling greedily and earning a pinch to the side. 

“Mmm, ouch,” he groaned. 

“I’m trying to get to sleep here,” they sighed, unable to stifle a smile, sinking deeper into his tight embrace. “Goodnight, Julian.” 

They had been struggling to sleep lately, a building awareness of the severity of the situation they had gotten themselves into lingering at the back of their mind. 

The only remedy was Julian. 

They slept like a rock when they were wrapped up in his bedsheets, naked bodies pressed tight, limbs entwined, kisses pressed upon foreheads and on ends of noses. 

Tonight Julian seemed particularly restless, long legs twitching, fingers tapping an uneven rhythm at the base of their spine. They kept their eyes shut, hoping sleep would take them, regardless of the fidgeting man they were tucked against. 

“You’ll never know how much you mean to me.”

A whisper, so quiet and _quick_ it should have been missed, lost amongst sleepy breaths and snoring. Their fingers instinctively tightened around his waist, the urge to smile, to let a huge, _shit-eating_ grin cross their lips was almost unbearable. 

“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve this, to deserve _you_ ,” Julian sighed. He leaned down to press another kiss to their forehead. “But I love you. Unconditionally.” 

They smiled that time, eyes flickering open to gaze up at the blushing man. He wrinkled his nose, embarrassed. They kissed him then, to let him know they felt the same way. Over and over and _over_.

The unspoken declarations of love were always the best. 

They both slept well that night.


	25. Julian x Nb!Apprentice 4.

13\. Things you said at the kitchen table   
22\. Things you said after it was over 

__________

“I’m turning myself in,” he said, words barely a whisper. He clenched and unclenched his hands, wringing them nervously. He couldn’t seem to make eye contact, gaze firmly fixed upon the tabletop. 

“Julian… no. You _can’t_. I won’t survive it, not after—” 

“It’s done. It’s too late, they’ll be on their way shortly.” He leaned forward, pulling their hands into his own, his grip tight. “You never knew me, you never even laid eyes upon me, do you understand?” 

They felt hot tears fall freely down their cheeks, their world tilting on its axis, swirling, falling apart around them. “ _No_ ,” they whimpered. “I cannot, I _will_ not. I… I’m not done trying to save you.” 

Julian smiled, pressing a lingering kiss to their palm. “Do you remember the first time we met?”

They nodded, clenching their eyes shut _tight_ as if to banish the memory from their mind. “Death.” 

They felt Julian’s grip tighten for a moment, his eye widening. He looked pale, paler. They watched the bob of his throat as he swallowed. “And what did you tell me of that card?”

“It’s… misunderstood. It can mean transformation, change. That’s what I felt when I looked at you.” 

Julian’s lips parted as if he were about to speak, he smirked, thinking better of it.

Eventually, the guards came. He grinned as they dragged him away, the apprentice’s touch still lingering upon his skin. 

They say that his last words were strange, vague. He didn’t beg, or cry, he simply whispered, “I love you,” over and over and _over_ , until there was nothing left but the pained screams of an unknown observer, echoing loudly into the Vesuvian night.


	26. Julian x nb!Apprentice 5.

**The Star:**   _renewal, hope, rest; “I feel at peace.”_

* * *

“Did you see it?”   


They nodded, bottom lip drawn between their teeth. Their fingers twitched beside them, brushing against his, lacing them together. 

Julian cleared his throat, a nervous tick they’d picked up on. They smiled to themselves, tilting their head to look at him. He was blushing, of _course_ he was blushing.   


They studied him, the perfectly imperfect nose, the sharp jut of his cheekbones, the full, pink lips, the silver of his eye, sparkling in the pale moonlight.  

“Beautiful,” they whispered, hoping he’d realize they weren’t talking about the shooting star.   


His lips twitched into a smile, the blush beneath pale cheeks intensifying. He turned onto his side, the soft grass rustling beneath him. 

They turned too, so close they could feel his breath upon their cheeks. 

Julian narrowed his eye at them, his smile turning into a playful smirk. He squeezed their hand once,  _tight_. “I wish I could read your mind,” he sighed. 

“I wish you could too,” they sighed.  


He chuckled, a soft, musical sound. “Not giving anything away then?” 

They pursed their lips, looking from side to side. “Hmmm, _nope_. I’m afraid you’ll have to guess.” 

They watched his adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, his expression switching from playful to desperate. “You’re… something else, do you know that?” 

They edged towards him slightly, wriggling their body so their noses were brushing, lips but a breath away. They lived for these moments with him, flustering him, watching the tips of his ears turn pink, his breath beginning to quicken. 

Julian closed the gap between them, pressing his lips to theirs, quick, soft and entirely not what they were expecting. 

He pulled away, biting his bottom lip, a deep, content noise rumbling in this throat. He turned his head back toward the sky, raising his free hand to point excitedly. “Look! Another.” 

They didn’t look, the only thing interesting them lay right beside them. 


	27. Julian x nb!Apprentice 6.

In a hail of sparks, Julian felt everything fall apart around him. The hot, white burst of pain started in his temple and thread all the way down to his toes. He felt sick, numb, his lungs _aching_ with each breath. 

He knew the time would come, nothing that beautiful should be allowed to last forever. 

He pressed his back against the familiar door, slowly sliding down until he hit the ground. His hands went to his hair, tears falling hot down his cheek. He heard a noise on the other side of the wood, a broken, terrible noise. 

He had done that, he had _hurt_ them, the one person who had helped, who had _cared_. They may have even loved him. 

_“I want you.”_   


The nausea hit him again, those words fluttering around in his brain, their voice as clear and as _sure_ as anything he’d ever heard. A shuddering breath fell from parted lips, fingers digging into his scalp, tugging at the roots.

He loved with every fibre of his being, every particle, every nerve in his body vibrating for them, _only_ them. 

How he wished he could be more like them in this moment. His bright light in the darkness, in all the _shit_ that seems to gravitate towards him. 

He stood, wiping the tears from his cheek, taking deep, drawn breaths to fill his lungs with something other than this ache. He allowed himself a look, a quick glance inside. One more for the road. 

What he saw there allowed him to leave, allowed him to flee.

Asra, the Apprentice in his arms. They were crying, talking, their shoulders shaking with the force of their sobs. Asra stroked their hair, listening to every word intently, being _there_ for them. 

He thought back to the morning, when he’d woken with them pressed tightly against his chest, a smile upon perfect lips, hair deliciously disheveled. They’d asked him what he was thinking as their fingers drew lazy circles upon his bare chest. 

He had smiled and said, “That I’ve never been happier, than when I’m with you.” 

He took one last look at them before turning and disappearing into the night with purpose. He would return, he’d make himself whole again, for them. 


	28. Julian x nb!Apprentice 7.

"What Julian would think if MC told him they killed Lucio"

 

* * *

 

 

His hands drop from their face, trembling, unsure.

For the first time since they met he looks… blank, not a sliver of emotion on his handsome face.

He swallows before exhaling sharply. He shakes his head, messy red locks of hair falling to cover his eyepatch. “No, I… I don’t believe you.”

They reach for him and he stumbles back, his body pressed against the wall of the tight alley. His fingers splay upon the stone, his knees shake.

They pull their hand back, his recoil a gut-punch. “I didn’t  _know_ , I… I remember now. I’m sorry, Julian. You’re safe now, I promise…”

He closes his eye, head turned away from them.

The pain in their chest clenches, like a fist curling around their heart.

“If you are the murderer then why is there this… this  _pain_ , this feeling in the pit of my stomach. I’ve done something terrible, of that I’m certain,” he nods, expression suddenly manic, unhinged. “But if I am not… if…”

He takes a step forward, long limbs closing the gap between them. His hand wraps around their throat, pressing them back against the wall. They tip their head back, submitting.

“Please, Julian.  _Please_ ,” they plead, tears hot down their cheeks.

His lips curl into a snarl, white teeth glistening. He leans in. Then, a shuddering breath. “I won’t let them take you.” His voice catches, breaks.

His hand relaxes its grip, runs down their chest to rest above their thrumming heart. His breathing calms, cheeks turning from red, to pink, to white.

His gaze meets theirs, fingers gently lacing into the hair at the nape of their neck. “I  _won’t_  let them take you.”


	29. Asra x nb!Apprentice 5.

**death:** destruction, loss, change; _“I lost you. And it was unbearable.”_

 

* * *

 

Asra cradled them in his arms, rocking them, uttering whispered promises. He was a broken man, consumed by grief.

“Please, please come back to me. I’m sorry, I’m so…” he sobbed, words failing him.

They looked so… peaceful, serene.

He had done this, and he would never forgive himself. He was a fool to try, to even think that those three simple words were harmless.

After all, love was the most dangerous thing in this world.

He placed his hand upon their head, a stream of golden light pouring from his palm, washing over them. He blinked away tears and closed his eyes, concentrating, pouring everything he had into his magic, into them.

He promised himself this would be the last time he would try, he would have nothing left to give after.

A piercing noise filled his ears, his temple thrumming, aching. His chest tightened, breaths short and quick as he relented, push, push, pushing on.

Then, a breath. A breath so quiet, so subtle that anyone else might have missed it.

“Yes, come on!” he shouted, unable to hear himself over the rush of blood pounding in his ears.

They jerked in his arms, sitting up with a gasp, a splutter. Trembling hands grabbed at his shirt, eyes wide as they reached for him.

He brushed a lock of hair from their forehead, grasping their face between his palms, trying to see if this was real.

Their hands grabbed his wrists. “Asra?”

He smiled, tears staining his cheeks. He was exhausted, completely and utterly wrecked, but nothing would take this moment from him.

“Asra, I remember. I remember everything,” they panted, breathless.

He pulled their face to his, lips meeting in a crushing, desperate kiss.

“I lost you, and it was unbearable,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against theirs.

“I’m here now, I’m here.”


	30. Julian x nb!Apprentice 8.

 

***NSFW!***

* * *

 

Julian smiled as they turned to face him, his fingers lightly ghosting down their bare skin, along their collarbone, trailing down the centre of their chest, lower, lower…

The noise they made as his talented hands made their way beneath the sheets, the soft gasps, the way his name fell from their lips like a prayer, a benediction, as he pandered between their thighs.

They launched into a gloriously messy kiss, all teeth and tongue, a wrist being grabbed and pinned above Julian’s head, his pulse racing beneath the hard press of their fingertips.

It screamed mine, mine, mine; a possession, overtaking him, consuming him. He bucked his hips as they straddled him, the urge to seek friction, to let them feel what they’d done to him.

 

They groaned as he pressed himself against them, hard and

fuck

…

Their lips found his neck, leaving bruising kisses in their wake. The harder he bucked, the harder the hot brand of their mouth pressed against exposed skin, Julian’s head tipping back, welcoming it.

They pulled away, looking down at him, surveying him with a slanted smile. He exhaled, trying to catch his breath.

Julian reached out, one hand splayed upon their chest, their heart thrumming fast, too fast beneath his palm. He placed his other hand upon their hip, fingers pressing bruises into their skin.

They pressed down, hips moving against him in a slow, aching grind.

“What are you waiting for? please…” they sighed, laughing breathlessly as he flipped them in one, swift movement, switching places.

He felt like he could fall apart at any moment as he settled into the welcoming crux of their thighs, beginning to feel desperate, aching for them, to bury himself deep, to lose himself.

They reached up, fingers lacing into messy red hair, tugging him down against them, bodies flush.

They brought their lips to his ear. “Don’t make me beg,” they moaned, breathless, wanting.

He shuddered, a growl falling from his lips as he grabbed their thigh, hitching it high around his waist.

They finally connected, the feeling driving Julian mad, curses falling unsteadily from parted, panting lips.

Their bodies moved together in a perfect glide, their fingers still pulling at his hair, the headboard cracking loudly against the wall with each drawn-out thrust of Julian’s hips.

They tightened their legs around him, fingers trailing down his back, nails clawing at the tightly wound muscles that moved beneath pale skin.

Julian pressed their foreheads together, the thrust of his hips going wild as he felt that tight, hot coil in the pit of his stomach. He ground his teeth, willing the feeling to subside. Just a little longer, please…

Julian’s resolve didn’t last as they flew apart beneath him, coming with a shuddering breath, their body coiled tight, tight, tight before relaxing, deliciously boneless.

Their hand reached up to cup his jaw, their fingers pushing into his mouth. He bit down hard, before kissing away the pain with a grin.

They gazed up at him, sated and beautiful, kiss-reddened lips drawn between their teeth, eyes blown-black and wide with wonder as they watched him come undone above them.

The way they looked at him made his heart swell in his chest, he felt so wanted, so loved.

They wrapped themselves into a tight embrace, holding on to one another as they watched the dust motes swirl in the beams of morning sunlight that streamed through gauzy curtains.

“Good morning,” they whispered, lips hot upon his shoulder.

“I would say so,” he smirked, pulling them tighter, as tight as they could get.


	31. Nadia x nb!Apprentice 1.

6\. “You’re _mine,_ and I want everyone to know.”  
________

They gripped the edge of the desk, nails digging into soft wood. Nadia was relentless, her teeth pulling their earlobe between her teeth, nibbling, tugging. 

Her hand pandered between their thighs, and they were helpless. 

She slowly made her way from jaw, to neck, to clavicle. She sucked at their skin, beautiful bruises blooming. 

They stifled a groan and she noticed, her head snapping up, fierce red eyes narrowing. “No, don’t.” 

They laughed, reaching out the brush the furrow between her brows away with the swipe of their thumb. “There’s people right outside, Nadi.”

They could hear the familiar chatter of the palace guards sneaking under the doorway. 

She smirked, mischief taking over her features. “You think I care? I want them to hear, want them to see my marks upon your skin.”

Her hand slipped beneath the waistband of their trousers, pressing upon the heat that lingered between their legs. She leaned in _close_ , perfect lips curling into a snarl. “You’re _mine_ , and I want everyone to know.” 

They could do little to refuse her, the overwhelming surge of _want_ pressing down on them, their body arching into her talented touch gratefully. 

They grabbed at the shoulder of her dress, pushing it gently over her shoulders, revealing that perfect expanse of silky soft, umber skin. Her breasts were warm, responsive to their touch. As soon as their hands were upon her, her demeanour changed into something deeper, more sensual. 

Yes. Yes, yes, _yes_.

They were hers, irrevocably.


	32. Muriel x nb!Apprentice 1.

15\. “Lay down, let me take care of you. Please…”  
_______

They felt his presence before they saw him, his figure casting a shadow over them as he approached. 

They spun around, connecting with his hulking chest, hands splayed upon bare, _warm_ skin. “You’re not very stealthy, you know,” they grinned, reaching up to push his hood away from his handsome face. 

He smiled softly, a huge hand cupping the back of their head, drawing them in. His lips were surprisingly soft as they pressed against their own, moving so gently it was almost painful. 

He broke the kiss, frowning as he noticed the gash in their shirt, dried blood caked upon exposed skin. “What happened?” He said, his deep voice making the hairs on the back of their neck prickle. 

They shrugged, brushing it off. “Perks of the job, I’m fine.” 

“No,” he shook his head, dark hair rustling about his face. “Lay down, let me take care of you. Please…” 

He guided them back towards the table, picking them up with ease and placing them on the surface. He disappeared for a moment, returning with a handful of gauze and ointment. He made quick work of removing their shirt, gentle fingers ghosting the wound as he patched them up. 

“There,” he nodded. “As good as new.” 

His hand lingered upon their chest, slowly trailing down, resting upon their hipbone. He exhaled sharply, chest heaving. Their eyes locked, desperation radiating between them like shockwaves, pulling, _tugging_. 

They wordlessly began to undo their trousers, eyes never leaving his. They watched the bob of his throat as he swallowed, muscles twitching beneath lightly tanned, scarred skin. 

He waited for a beat, before grabbing them, lifting them until their legs were wrapped around his waist. Their lips met, frenzied kisses as he carried them to the bedroom in a few, long strides.


	33. Asra x F!Apprentice 2.

Asra’s fingers moved fluidly, like he was plucking strings on a harp, his hands ghosting over her.

Her body arched towards him like a magnet, her fingers fisting silky sheets as his magic washed over her in waves, lapping, _drowning_.

He hadn’t even touched her yet, and she was already falling apart. 

Heavy eyes fluttered open, focusing on his perfect face. His lips twitched, as if he were trying to suppress a smile as he elicited another whimper from her. 

Her body was covered in goose-flesh, the hairs on the back of her neck standing to attention. 

She knew the limits of her own magic, but would never know how Asra held so much power over her, how he could so easily pull her apart and piece her back together again with a flick of his wrist. 

She felt that hot, _hot_ coil in her abdomen, threatening to unfurl at any moment. 

She wanted to beg, to ask him to finally touch her, put her out of this blissful misery. 

Asra halted the spell, splaying his hands upon her chest, moving to cup her breasts. “You are so beautiful,” he groaned, climbing onto the table, hovering over her, regarding her with such intensity she felt like she was on fire. 

She almost felt desperate, always wanting more, more, _more_ of him. 

He smiled down at her, gently taking her wrists in his hands and positioning them above her head. “Stay,” he whispered, pressing his lips to her throat. 

She writhed beneath him as the familiar, golden glow emanated from his fingertips once more.


	34. Julian x M!Apprentice 12. (Vampire)

MC as a vampire request.

* * *

Finn was delightfully pale before, but now his skin had taken on a beautiful, almost translucent quality. His favorite thing about the transformation, however, was the perfectly plump and permanently rosy red lips. Lips that framed sharp, _deadly_ teeth. 

He was perfect in Julian’s eyes before, but now he was absolutely _devastating_.   


It had been ten days since they’d touched, Finn concerned that he’d hurt Julian, do something irreversible. It was painful to be close but so _far._  

Finn’s eyes flew open, the dark red irises framed by dark, thick lashes. He sat up, panicked. 

“I’m here,” Julian whispered, not wanting to startle him. He grabbed a chair, pulling it to the side of the bed, and took a seat. “I’ve been thinking…”  


Finn sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed, quirking his eyebrow in question.

Julian edged closer, reaching out to place a tentative hand upon Finn’s knee, squeezing once. They were close, _so_ close. Finn bit his bottom lip, his body tensing from the contact. 

“Julian, I don’t want to hurt you. I can’t prom–”  


“ _Please_ , I miss you. I _need_ you. It’s becoming unbearable,” he pleaded, voice tinged with a hint of desperation. “You… you could feed on me. The curse…” 

Finn closed his eyes _tight,_ his fingers gripping the edge of the bed. He swallowed loudly, shaking his head. “You don’t know what you’re asking, Julian. It’s too dangerous.” 

Julian sat next to him, unbuttoning his shirt. He tugged his collar to the side, exposing his jugular. He could feel his pulse thrum, and he knew Finn would hear it, _feel_ it. 

Finn growled, grabbing Julian’s chin and jerking him to face him. His lips were upon his in an instant, frenzied, _beautiful._  Julian groaned from from the contact, his skin on fire, sizzling. Finn tore his shirt from his shoulders, his hands then working on unbuttoning and removing his own.

He stared at Julian with those disarming red eyes, his chest heaving. “You’ll be the death of me.” 

Julian placed his hands upon the bed, allowing Finn full control. He smiled, ready, waiting as Finn straddled his hips, pressing him back against the headboard. Finn’s hands made work on undoing his trousers, his hand gratefully cupping his hardness, face pressed close to Julian’s throat, inhaling greedily. 

Julian was pretty sure he was about to lose his mind; a very fine line between pleasure and feeling absolutely _terrified_. 

He liked it, _loved_ it, in fact. He raised his hips to meet Finn’s hand once more, earning a throaty growl, Finn’s teeth bared, glistening. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Julian moaned. “Do it.” 

“I can smell you, feel you, _everywhere,_ ” Finn panted, running his nose along the solid line of Julian’s neck.   


Julian grabbed his head, pushing it, encouraging him. “Please…” 

Finn hissed through clenched teeth, before sinking them deep, flesh piercing, hot, thick blood rushing down Julian’s chest. 

Julian gasped at the white, _hot_ stab of pain, his body arched like a bow, almost to the point of snapping. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before, a sweet, _agonizing_ torture. He’d never felt closer to Finn, his fingers lacing through dark hair, tugging. 

Julian felt the telltale heat of the mark upon his throat lighting up, the curse attempting to work it’s magic, infuriatingly alleviating some of the pain. He groaned, _loudly,_ causing Finn to pull away, their eyes meeting, his mouth stained a deep, delicious red, a sliver of blood trailing down his chin. 

He dipped back down to tend to the bite, licking the wound affectionately. He looked up once more, panting just as much as Julian was. Julian gazed at him, shock and desire radiating so _thick_ between them. He thought he wouldn’t be able to talk again, or breathe, for that matter. 

“ _Fuck_ , Julian,” Finn moaned, wiping the blood from the corner of his mouth and licking it off his finger.   


Julian smirked, still so fucking _hard_ he couldn’t stand it. He hooked a finger into the waistband of Finn’s trousers, tugging him close, his hands grabbing his hips. “Finish what you’ve started.” 

Finn grinned, a sinful sound rumbling deep in his chest as he pinned Julian against the mattress. 


	35. Nadia x nb!Apprentice 2.

**The Devil:**

_failure, lust, temptation;_

“You want it too…”

_______

“You’re… different. Do you know that?”They blinked, regarding the Countess with a confused expression. “Uhmm.. I–” 

“I mean, you’re _interesting_. You intrigue me,” Nadia said, her finger trailing the rim of her wine glass. 

The way she looked at them had changed, a certain hunger behind her eyes. She shrugged, nonchalant, and placed her glass upon the side table. She stood, walking toward her bed, her hand reaching behind her, seemingly feeling for the buttons of her complicated looking dress. 

They couldn’t take their eyes off her, the mesmerizing sway of perfect hips, the way her dress hugged every single curve. 

 “A little assistance?” Nadia asked, awkwardly twisting her body and tapping at the buttons suggestively. 

They swallowed, standing and heading for her. Their fingers trembled as they worked the buttons, parting the vivid blue material to reveal perfect umber skin.  

She twisted away from them, allowing the fabric to fall down as far as her hips. She stood, naked from the waist-up, baring herself to them with hands placed confidently upon her hips. 

She cocked her head, tapping her foot impatiently, a smirk crossing plump lips. “Lose the shirt.” 

They stood there, speechless, gaping like an idiot. She was breathtaking, the most beautiful creature, man or woman, they’d ever laid eyes on. She simply couldn’t be _real_. They’d flirted, sure, they’d even kissed (once), but this was disarming and entirely too tempting. 

She stood silently, the foot-tapping subsiding as the minutes passed. Piercing red eyes fell to the floor, dark lashes kissing the tops of newly flushed cheeks. She wrapped an arm over her breasts, suddenly self-conscious, “If you don’t want… I thought–” 

They snapped out of it and reached for her, the swiftness of their movement drawing a gasp from the back of her throat as they grabbed her by the arms, pulling her tight against their chest. They stared her down, her lips curling into a smile.   


They finally, _finally_ pressed their lips to hers, the taste of expensive wine delicious on her tongue. The kiss burned like fire, her hands reaching up and tugging at their hair, long nails scratching at their scalp. 

They dug their fingers into her arms as she moaned into his mouth. They pulled back, her eyes flying open, pupils blown black and mouth so deliciously kiss-reddened they wanted to weep. 

“Take your shirt _off_ ,” she growled, voice thick with lust, _power._  

This time, they obliged, her hands upon them in an instant.

“You’re devastating,” they sighed, pressing kisses to her neck, trailing lower, _lower_ until they were on their knees before her. Their hands worked to finish removing the dress, the silky fabric pooling around her feet. They ran their hands from her hips down her thighs, then back up again, goose-flesh prickling in their wake. 

She placed a finger beneath their chin, tilting their head up to meet her gaze. “Take me to bed.”


	36. Asra x Julian 1.

10. “I’m not above begging.” 

* * *

Julian was watching the rise and fall of Asra’s chest, his breaths shallow in sleep. He looked peaceful, serene, eyelids dancing in his dreams. He crinkled his nose, the same way he did when he disagreed with someone, more often than not, that someone was Julian. 

It was beautiful; everything about him was. Julian even loved the awful parts of him, of which there were _plenty._

Julian sighed. He had _tried_ to stay away from the infuriating man that lay beside him, knowing Asra couldn’t give him what he truly wanted. He was a fool, so of course, he stayed. 

Though it may wake him, Julian couldn’t resist reaching out and touching his cheek, russet skin soft like silk beneath his fingertips.  


Asra smiled, leaning in to his touch with a breathy sigh. 

He loved Julian in his sleep. 

Julian felt a pathetic tightness forming in his chest; an overwhelming surge of emotion that almost cripples him every time it crept up on him.

Asra stirred, a hand blindly reaching out for him. Julian took it in his own and pressed it to his heart as Asra’s eyes slowly opened, lids still heavy with sleep. He mumbled something incoherent and threw a leg over Julian’s waist, his body tucking neatly against his side. The feel of his nakedness pressed against him coaxed that surge in his chest to surface again.

“Morning,” Asra whispered, full lips pressed against his throat.

Tousled white hair fanned out over the pillow as he rolled and stretched, the same way it did when he led beneath him last night, the sight stirring a delicious memory to life.

“Good morning,” he sighed, his thumb pressed to Asra’s bottom lip.

Asra smiled for a moment, before it swiftly faded away, turning into something primal as he placed himself above Julian. He splayed delicate hands upon his chest, arching forward to catch Julian’s lips in a hungry kiss, biting and tugging and _needing._

Julian felt himself flushing, always overwhelmed by this feeling of being wanted, even if it wasn’t perfect. 

Julian’s hands fit perfectly around his hips, and he grabbed him _tight_ as he glided over him. He _aches_ for him, the throb between his legs desperate.

Asra moved his hips, a wicked smirk on his lips. “You want me, don’t you Ilya?” 

Julian groaned, nodding with half-lidded eyes, pupils blown to blackness.

“Very well,” Asra purrs.

It’s a dance to the death as they claw and bite, graceful as they tear each other apart. They fight, suspended in the feeling as they lose themselves in each other until one of them surrenders.

It’s in that moment where Julian finds Asra the most disarming; cheeks and chest flushed, lips pursed and panting. He trembles for a moment, _vulnerable_ for once. His legs twitched, stomach taut. Then, he smiled. It’s lazy and _relaxed_ , as if the heavy, heavy weight he seems to carry has been lifted, for just a moment.

Asra pushed his hair away from his face, slicking it back with the sweat that’s beaded upon his brow. Then, he’s gone. He removed himself from the bed with a stretch, pulling his clothes on piece by piece. 

“Why don’t you stay for once, just a little longer?” Julian whispered, feeling exposed. “I’m not above begging, Asra…”   


Asra didn’t look at him, his shoulders slumping, head shaking. “You know I cannot, Ilya. I’m sorry.” 


	37. Julian x f!Apprentice 2.

**The Lovers:** _love, harmony, mutual attraction;_

* * *

She was trying her hardest to let him sleep, but mere sight of him, delicious sleep-mussed hair and bare chest made her heart leap. She couldn’t resist this infuriating man.

She felt selfish as she threw a leg over his waist, his evident morning arousal pressing into her thigh. She grabbed his wrists and pinned them above his head, fingers curling, nails _digging_. 

That woke him up. 

Julian’s hands flew to her waist, fingers fitting perfectly over last night’s bruises.

She smirked, leaning in close, so close their noses brushed. He returned the smile, a shit-eating, _devastating_ smile. 

His gaze burned into hers, eye hooded with lust as he ground his hips beneath her, the tight muscles of his abdomen twitching, sinew beneath ghost white skin. 

She tightened her grip, eliciting a low moan from snarling lips. 

She was helpless against no man, but was beginning to feel her resolve slip away with this one. She tightened her grip, trying to her hardest to stay in control as he wriggled with a smirk beneath her.

Julian quickly sat up, catching her off-guard, forcing her to sit between his spread legs as he broke free from her grip. 

Deft fingers began to crawl up her leg. his index finger tracing lightly up the inside her thigh, her skin breaking out into gooseflesh beneath his touch. His fingers traveled higher, higher  and…  


_Fuck._

Her head fell back, sounds that would make a choir boy blush falling from her lips. 

He splayed his other hand on her chest, between her breasts, pushing her backwards as his fingers beckoned inside her. 

She lay down, submitting to him, allowing him full access of every inch of her trembling body. 

“ _More_ ,” she sighed, breathless, fingers clawing, trying to grasp at anything. 

He chuckled and swiftly disappeared between her legs, locking eyes with her as he licked his lips.

She was screwed. 

Before she met him she rarely allowed herself to lose control like this. But, as his mouth parted over the wet heat between her thighs, lazy tongue teasing and lapping, she let herself be _ruled._

Julian reached up, a hand trailing hips, stomach, chest. Fingers gently brushed over her breast before resting on her neck, _squeezing_. She groaned as his tongue delved deep, only to be selfishly taken away within the next moment. 

She felt something pool in the pit of her stomach, burning,  _blinding._

He withdrew his hand from her neck and she instantly missed the sensation.

Julian groaned and it _shook_  her. He pushed down, _down_ ; hands grabbing parted thighs and pressing new bruises upon her skin. 

Her hips bucked as she fell apart, feeling the hot flush on her cheeks, her lips quivering pathetically as she cried out. Her hands flew to his hair, fingers digging, trying to crack his skull because no one should be allowed to make her feel like _this_ and live afterwards. 

She finally opened her eyes, her breath taking it’s time to steady, and when she looks down, between her still-trembling legs, he smiles.

. 


	38. Nadia x nb!Apprentice 3.

6\. “You’re  _mine,_ and I want everyone to know.”

* * *

 

They gripped the edge of the desk, nails digging into soft wood. Nadia was relentless, her teeth pulling their earlobe between her teeth, nibbling, tugging.

Her hand pandered between their thighs, and they were helpless.

She slowly made her way from jaw, to neck, to clavicle. She sucked at their skin, beautiful bruises blooming.

They stifled a groan and she noticed, her head snapping up, fierce red eyes narrowing. “No, don’t.”

They laughed, reaching out the brush the furrow between her brows away with the swipe of their thumb. “There’s people right outside, Nadi.”

They could hear the familiar chatter of the palace guards sneaking under the doorway.

She smirked, mischief taking over her features. “You think I care? I want them to hear, want them to see my marks upon your skin.”

Her hand slipped beneath the waistband of their trousers, pressing upon the heat that lingered between their legs. She leaned in  _close_ , perfect lips curling into a snarl. “You’re  _mine_ , and I want everyone to know.”

They could do little to refuse her, the overwhelming surge of  _want_  pressing down on them, their body arching into her talented touch gratefully.

They grabbed at the shoulder of her dress, pushing it gently over her shoulders, revealing that perfect expanse of silky soft, umber skin. Her breasts were warm, responsive to their touch. As soon as their hands were upon her, her demeanour changed into something deeper, more sensual.

Yes. Yes, yes,  _yes_.

They were hers, irrevocably.


	39. Julian x m!Apprentice 13.

Inspired by this lovely request of my apprentice, by [rimarza](rimarza.tumblr.com)

 

 

**NSFW! Knives, blood etc.**

* * *

They were lost. Lost in each other, lost in the moment. Just plain  _lost_. 

Julian had loved before, sure, but this…  _this_  was a different beast altogether. He gazed up at Finn, his heart fit to burst with the overwhelming press of emotion that weighed him down.

He was  _everywhere_ , his senses flooded. Finn smiled, that shit-eating, spine-tingling smile that rendered Julian useless. He dipped back in for the kill, his hot, wet mouth pulling at Julian’s throat, teeth scraping. It was a delicious cycle of kiss, bite, lick, repeat. 

Sometimes he even worked too quickly for the curse to work it’s inconvenient magic,Julian’s skin littered with a map of perfect bruises. 

He pushed Finn’s shirt off his shoulders, letting it flutter to the ground. His hands were on him in an instant, eager to touch,  _feel_ every perfect inch of his bare flesh. “ _More_ ,” he groaned, voice shaking, broken. 

Finn raised his head from his throat to look at him, golden eyes meeting grey, wide and  _hungry_. He smiled, knowing exactly what Julian needed. He reached down, hitching Julian’s leg around his waist, hand trailing down,  _down_  until he reached the rim of his boot. He dipped inside, a slide of metal against leather as he unsheathed the switchblade. 

Julian swallowed as Finn flicked the blade, holding his breath as he pressed the tip against his forearm. He was so fucking  _hard_  he could cry. 

“Yes?” Finn whispered, face calm, concerned for a beat. 

Julian dragged his bottom lip between his teeth, his top curling into a snarl. “Yes.  _Please,_ ” he whimpered, a broken, desperate sound. 

The first cut was always the most exhilarating. The tiniest nick in his flesh, hot, thick blood oozing, stark against his pale skin. As one healed, Finn made sure another took it’s place. Over and over and  _over_ until they grew impatient, needing to feel each other fully, completely.

Finn greedily kissed away the pain, his lips stained a sinful red as he pressed them against Julian’s, the taste of iron tingling on their tongues. 

What remained of their clothes were discarded in a frenzy as they gratefully finished what they’d started. 


	40. Julian x m!Apprentice 14.

 

"No, I want them to hear."

* * *

 

 

Finn caught himself staring longingly at Julian’s hands as he wrapped long fingers around the handle of his tankard. He’d never be able to forget the way they played him like a song, his almost deadly precision plucking and unwinding him over and over and… 

“Can I help you?” 

He snapped his head up to meet Julian’s gaze, registering the playful smirk. He’d been caught. “Just… admiring you, that’s all,” he shrugged, taking a long sip of his whiskey. 

Julian bit his bottom lip in that way he knew drove Finn insane, tilting his head just-so, enough to be suggestive, alluring. “I see. Well, there’s a little room out back, you know. I may need to check it in a moment.” 

Finn smiled down into his glass, an avid fan of the way the terrible ale at the Rowdy Raven seemed to give Julian that little bit of extra confidence. Or maybe it was just the exhibitionist in him coming out to play. Finn eyed the rickety door of the storeroom, cracks marring the wood and the hinges barely hanging on. 

He narrowed his eyes as Julian sat back in the booth, broad arms stretched over the back, broad chest visible through his unbuttoned shirt, eyebrow quirked cockily. He glanced around at the bar patrons, registering that they were all engrossed in their own business. With that realization he chugged the remainder of his whiskey, swallowing away the bite it left in his throat, and slammed his empty glass on the table. He stood, not even sparing Julian a glance as he strolled toward the storeroom. 

He closed the pathetic excuse of a door behind him, peeking at a flustered Julian through a gap, smiling to himself as the doctor stood and practically fell over his own feet.

Julian closed the door, their bodies pressed close in the small, poorly-lit room. “This is cosy.”

“Just remember that you suggested this.” 

Julian hissed through clenched teeth. “Ah, I  _did_ , didn’t I? Having second thoughts?” 

Finn reached up, cupping Julian’s sharp jaw, his thumb pressed against his lips. “Never.” 

Finn leaned in and bit at the skin of his clavicle, sucking hard enough to leave a mark. He smirked into Julian’s neck as he shivered from the contact, his hands reaching out to grip at Finn’s shoulders, steadying himself. 

Julian pushed him back into a rather unstable looking desk that was pressed against the wall, the only piece of furniture in this strange little room. Finn gave it a little nudge, ensuring it’s safety, before turning to blindly fumble to undo Julian’s trousers. 

Julian _groaned_  as he cupped his erection, his own hand tugging at Finn’s waistband. 

Finn pulled at Julian, pushing him against the desk, down until his chest was flush with the dusty wood. He covered him,  _all_ of him, leaning in to whisper in his ear. “I’m going to fuck you, here, like this.” 

Julian whimpered, a helpless, keening sound. He nodded furiously, pushing his hips back to grind against Finn. 

Finn’s hands flew to grip Julian’s waist, tugging that barrier of clothing down. He made quick work of readying him,  _desperate_  to feel him. 

They both breathed a sigh of relief, the bliss of being connected stopping them in their tracks. They stayed still, savoring the feeling. 

Finn dug his nails into Julian’s hips, pushing and pulling. Julian dropped his head, muffling his cries of pleasure into his forearm. 

Finn stilled, lacing his fingers into the mess of red curls, tugging his head back. “No, I  _want_  them to hear you.”  

Afterwards they walked out of the storeroom, deliciously disheveled and red cheeked with kiss-bitten lips. They slid back into their booth, Julian raising his hand to call over the barmaid. 

Finn glanced around the tavern again. This time, they were engrossed with them and  _only_  them. He smirked. 

_Mission accomplished._


	41. Asra x Julian 2.

 

Asra placed his hand upon their clammy forehead, sighing, helpless. 

He had tried everything short of blood sacrifice (well, maybe  _once_ …), and nothing had touched the plague that had ravaged the person he loved. 

He pressed a kiss to their lips and they stirred in their sleep, or coma, or  _whatever_ it was thathe had lulled them into to ease the pain. 

Faust dropped her head to the bed, continuing her vigil at their side. 

“I won’t fail you. I swear it.  _Whatever_  it takes.”

He grabbed his scarf and cloak and threw himself into the muggy Vesuvian night. He covered his mouth and nose, the air thick with fog, or possibly something else. 

He was a man on a mission as he stormed into the palace, brushing past the guards and right into Julian’s office. The doctor paced the poorly lit room on long limbs, throwing a well-read medical journal over his shoulder as a string of curses fell from his lips. His long fingers wound into his hair, pulling at the unruly red locks in frustration.

The book landed with a thud at Asra’s feet. He stepped over it, knowing that the answers they looked for were not inside those pages. 

“Ilya,” he said, loud, affirmative,  _determined_. 

Julian spun, startled at the sound of his voice. His expression softened as he saw Asra, those familiar sad eyes sparkling as he looked at him. “Asra? I… I wasn’t expecting you.” 

He walked toward Asra, tentatively reaching out, withdrawing when he registered the tense lines of Asra’s body. 

Asra had foolishly indulged himself in the handsome doctor more times than he could count. He was lost, lonely, and Julian was there. He felt guilty when it turned into something more than a fleeting fling for Julian, clearly entering dangerous territory. 

“Asra, what is it? What’s wrong?” Julian fretted, those sad eyes heavy with lack of sleep. He was running himself into the ground. 

“I need you to do something for me, Ilya. I need to you trust me, no questions. Can you do that?” 

Julian swallowed loudly, nodding without even thinking about it. Asra almost felt bad for him, knowing what he was going to do was unfair. Anything though,  _anything_  to save them…

“Take my hand and close your eyes,” he nodded, offering Julian his palm. 

Julian closed the gap between them, shivering as he took his hand. “Will it hurt?” He whispered, voice shaking. He closed his eyes. 

“Just for a moment, Ilya. Just for a moment.” 


	42. Asra x Julian 3.

2. “Make that noise again…” 

13. “No, I want them to hear us.” 

_Listened to[Wicked Games](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O1OTWCd40bc) by The Weeknd while writing this, just sayin’… _

* * *

 

“No, that  _won’t_  work!” Julian yelled, slamming his hands upon the desk. 

Asra noticed that he’d removed his gloves. He had nice hands,  _really_  nice hands. He shrugged, lazily flicking to the next page of Julian’s ineligible chicken scratch. 

Julian scoffed, walking over to Asra’s corner where he sat upon a pile of assorted, colorful cushions. He grabbed his notebook from him, throwing it onto the desk, frustration rolling off him in waves. 

He stalked over to him, his broad body looming over Asra, hands placed either side of his head. His lips were curled into a snarl, teeth bared. “Do you ever listen to me  _witch_? ”

Asra folded his hands in his lap, raising his head to calmy catch Julian’s furious gaze. He smirked, watching the heavy rise and fall of Julian’s chest, his shirt falling open invitingly. 

He didn’t think, didn’t hesitate. He knew what he wanted, and he wanted it  _now_. 

He reached up, fisting the flimsy material and  _tugged,_ Julian’s muscular form falling, landing on top of him. He flushed, a beautiful, dusty shade of pink blooming on sharp, pale cheeks. He was warm,  _so_  warm. 

“W-what are you doing?” He stuttered, breath ghosting over Asra’s lips. “I thought that… you said it was the last time.” 

“Shut  _up_ , Ilya,” Asra groaned, reaching down to unbutton his shirt, arching closer as he pulled it off his shoulders. Julian’s eyes fell to his now-bare chest, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. He exhaled sharply as Asra flipped them, him hovering above Julian now. 

Asra splayed his hands upon stomach, tracing a finger down the sharp wings of his hipbones, making quick work of his trousers. Julian’s hands flew to grip his wrists, stopping him in his tracks.

“ _Asra_ …” he pleaded, eyes wide, blown-black. His breaths came in ragged, uneven pants. 

He always did prefer it slow. 

* * *

 

“No, Ilya.  _My_  way,” Asra grinned, shaking himself free of his grip. He quickly, tugged at the waistband of Julian’s trousers, pulling them down just enough, enough to free Julian’s growing hardness of it’s confinement. 

Asra was ready to shove him down,  _devour_  him, his hips pressing him into the mess of cushions, slotting together perfectly in the infuriating way they always did. 

And devour him he did.

Julian pressed his face into a pillow, muffling something that sounded like a growl, sending shivers down Asra’s spine as he thrust into him from behind. 

Asra grabbed at the riot of red curls and yanked his head back. “Make that noise again, I want to hear you. I want  _everyone_  to hear you,” he hissed, lips ghosting his earlobe.

Julian let out a breathless laugh. “ _Make me_ , then.” 

Asra dug his fingers into Julian’s hips, hard enough to bruise as he rutted against him in a frenzy, a delicious rhythm of push and pull, the glorious sound of skin on skin filling the room. 

He coaxed that sinful sound from Julian’s lips, feeling it reverberate throughout his whole body. A spark of pleasure coiled at the base of his spine, ready to unfurl, to end him at any moment. 

He lay against Julian’s back, teeth nipping at sweat-soaked skin, finding it entirely too hard to hold on for much longer. “ _Ilya_ …” he mumbled, his voice a broken, pathetic thing. 

He felt Julian shudder, tighten around him as he fell apart, a hand blindly reaching behind him, seeking to grasp at any part of Asra he could find.

In a moment of weakness Asra laced their fingers together, squeezing tight at he joined Julian, falling apart at the seams with a strangled cry. 

After, they lay sprawled in a graceless heap, fingers still entwined. 

Asra allowed it for a while, allowed an over-tired, over-invested Julian to fall asleep in his arms. 

Just this once… until next time. 


	43. Julian x m!Apprentice 15.

 

Julian sat with his long legs awkwardly stuffed beneath the table, his hands curled around a warm cup of black coffee. He smiled as he watched Finn fuss with his tea, mixing strange little bundles of leaves into the hot water, hints of mint and spice filling the air. 

Was this what being truly happy felt like? That annoying, persistent flutter in his stomach, the way his whole body shivered whenever Finn touched him, god...  _looked_  at him, even. 

Finn climbed onto the seat beside him, tucking himself neatly against Julian’s side. He nudged him, their shoulders knocking. Julian wrapped his arm around him, pulling him close,  _close._ Never close enough.

They sat and talked about nothing, silly, meaningless things, as if the world wasn’t trying to tear them apart at every turn. 

Finn frowned, looking down at his hands, wiggling his fingers. 

“What is it?” 

He shrugged. “Oh, nothing. It’s... nothing,” he sighed, the smile returning to his lips as he pressed a kiss against the curve of Julian’s jaw, twining their fingers together. 

Julian tilted his head, stealing a kiss from parted lips. It was sweet, chaste. It was...

The sound of something hitting the ground snapped them out of their embrace. 

Asra. 

* * *

 

He stood in the doorway to the shop, wide, lavender eyes suddenly immensely sad as he fixed his gaze upon them. He parted his lips as if to speak, before shaking his head and stilling himself with a smile. 

“Well, what a nice surprise. How lovely to see you, Ilya.  _Finn_...” 

There was a telltale shake in his voice as he said the apprentice’s name. Julian felt Finn tense against him, his face suddenly pale, drawn. 

“Asra, I-- you’re back,” Finn said, a furrow in his brow. 

Asra could only stare at Julian. It had been  _years,_ that much Julian knew. He just wished he could remember, had so many questions.

The witch exhaled sharply, a nervous laugh falling from his lips. “Yes, well, I’ll leave you two to, uh... I’ll go unpack, if that’s okay?”

Finn nodded, granting him permission. Asra’s eyes fell to their entwined fingers, then to Julian’s arm that was lovingly draped over Finn’s shoulder, registering the intimacy of their embrace. He picked up his bag, lowering his head as he walked past. He’d seen enough. 

Julian felt a strange tug, a pull in his chest. He could see that Finn did too, his eyes following Asra as he left the room, both of them itching to go to him, their bodies registering something that their minds did not. 


	44. Julian x m!Apprentice 16.

2. “Make that noise again.”   
4. “You’re driving me crazy. Please…”

* * *

 

“I… ah, I don’t want to hurt you,” Julian groaned, nuzzling his face into Finn’s neck. 

Finn snorted, his chest shaking with laughter. “Are you… are you  _kidding_? You don’t want to hurt me?” He ran a hand down Julian’s bare back, tight muscles shifting beneath warm skin. 

Julian responded by pushing his face further into Finn’s neck, another embarrassed groan rumbling in his chest. 

“You know I like it, right? You know that… that I’m like you?” 

Julian nodded, still hidden. “Mmmhm.” 

Finn pressed a kiss to his hair, trying to pry his face from it’s hidey hole. “Please, I want you to.” 

He finally emerged, streaks of pink painting his cheeks. Finn caught him in a kiss, a desperate laugh bubbling between them as he nipped at Julian’s bottom lip. Julian writhed against him, all hard and hot and  _perfect_. 

They rested their foreheads together, eyes closed. Bliss. 

“Please, you’re driving me crazy here,” Finn whispered, his hand trailing down to cup the firm peak of Julian’s ass,  _squeezing,_ Julian grinding his hips in response. 

Julian finally,  _finally_  pressed his lips to Finn’s throat, big hands pushing him down at the shoulders into the mattress, pinning him. 

Finn whimperedas Julian sucked at his skin, testing the waters at first, entirely too gentle but still so _fucking_  hot. 

Julian’s head snapped up, lips swollen, parted. “Make that noise again,” he groaned. “ _Please_ …” 

Finn smirked, pressing his thumb to those delicious lips, feeling the wetness there. “If you do that again,  _harder_ , I’ll have no choice.” 

Julian quickly returned to the task in hand, confident, driven by the hope of eliciting that delicious noise from his lovers lips. He relented, this time using his teeth, generous with the pressure he applied. 

Finn arched his hips, his back a sinuous bow as he writhed into the overwhelming pleasure-pain that shot through him like a spark. With every roll of his hips, with every cry, Julian sucked harder, bit  _harder_. He followed every bite with a swipe of his tongue, as if he was trying to soothe away the hurt.  

Finally, when Finn’s neck was a beautiful map of purple and red and  _Julian,_ he pulled away, admiring his work. 

“Oh,  _wow_ ,” Julian panted. “So, yeah. I– I’m into that.” 


	45. Asra x nb!Apprentice 6.

15. “Lay down, let me take care of you.” 

* * *

 

They needed him, like they needed air to breathe. They had always radiated towards him, for as long as they could remember. Even through all the hazy, clouded parts of their memory, one thing was a permanent fixture.

_Asra._

He appeared from underneath the bedsheets, snowy hair deliciously messy, fluffy strands sticking in all directions. He dragged blunt nails down their sides, sending sparks through their entire body. They shivered, trying to sit up and really get a look at him, all bare skin and lazy smiles between their legs. 

“Ah, ah. Lay  _down_. Let me take care of you,” he said. “Please.” 

They huffed playfully, their head falling back onto the feathery pillow, stealing a glance at him as he propped his chin upon their stomach.

He looked up at them with those gorgeous lavender eyes, his pupils expanding as he dipped white lashes down, then back up, drinking them in. “Are you going to relax?” Asra smirked, so fucking confident and  _perfect_  they could barely stand it.  

They licked their lips, nodding quickly. 

He shifted lower, pressing a hand on each thigh, _slowly_  parting them that little bit more. Their heart exploded in their chest as he pressed his mouth against them. 

Hot, wet,  _perfect_. 

Clever hands slid over their hipbones, to their stomach, mapping their quivering skin. They fisted the sheets as his tongue worked them over, whispering a breathless, “ _More_.”

_More, more more._


	46. Asra x nb!Apprentice 7.

Asra rushed to the shop door, placing his hands upon the wood and feeling the familiar hum of the apprentices wards beneath his palm. He smiled as their magic responded to his touch, fluttering away softly like a light breeze.

Late,  _terribly_ late.

He barged inside, an apology on the tip of his tongue, quickly stilled when he saw them, head resting on top of the kitchen table, fast asleep.

He smiled as Faust poked her head up from underneath the table, her little tongue flicking out in greeting. She slithered towards him, wrapping herself around his ankles and squeezing.

He quietly filled the kettle, placing it on the stove to boil. Gently, he slid into the chair beside them, wrapping an arm around their shoulder. They stirred, grumbling as he pressed a kiss to their temple.

“Late,” they sighed, voice thick with sleep.

“I know, I’m sorry.”


	47. Julian x m!Apprentice 17.

 

Finn tried to keep his cool as he was led to the cell, the bulky guards flanking him, keeping a close eye. 

He  _had_  just punched one of them, so he supposed it was fair of them to be suspicious. 

The click of Nadia’s heels on marble echoed behind him. She was keeping her distance, also a wise choice. He considered her his friend, but now…  _now_  he wasn’t so sure, her blind paranoia had gotten the better of her.

One of the guards (the lucky one with the black eye) knocked on the heavy, reinforced door. A grunt, then a thud escaped through the metal bars, and Finn surged forward as the door opened. 

What he saw crushed him, tore him to pieces. 

Julian, hands cuffed behind his back, on his knees, face pressed to the ground in a pool of blood. 

Finn dropped to his knees, trembling hands reaching to pull him up, to steady him. 

Julian smiled, a cut on his lip oozing blood, but healing in the fascinating way his wounds tended to do. The intricate mark upon his neck glowed, drawing a gasp from Nadia as she laid eyes upon it. 

Finn glared at her before turning to grab at Julian, hands either side of his face, fingers pushing into tangled, red locks. His eyes desperately searched his face, bruises slowly fading, a swelling on his eyebrow disappearing into nothing. 

“You’re okay. You’re okay,” he nodded. He slipped a hand around to the back of Julian’s neck, cupping the curve of his skull, his heart throwing off sparks, and kissed him. Their bodies rose to meet each other, chest to chest. It was desperate, a maelstrom of emotions swirling around them.

Nadia cleared her throat, a strange, nervous sound tinged with a hint of annoyance.

“Finn, I think we need to talk.”

Finn broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to Julian’s, catching his breath. He swiped his tongue over his bottom lip, tasting Julian’s blood on his tongue, sweet, copper.

Nadia waited silently, the guards nervously fidgeting at her side, eyes never leaving Julian. They barely even twitched as Finn placed his hands upon the chain of the handcuffs, his palm glowing a deep red, the metal crackling and popping as it burst apart.

He wrapped an arm around Julian’s waist, tugging him from the ground. Julian’s knees gave way, Finn catching him, always.

He guided him to the door, slow steps, easy does it.

He finally raised his eyes to meet Nadia’s gaze. She looked... pained, confused. “Finn... I—“

”I love him. I... I can’t prove it wasn’t him, but I also cannot prove that it was. Give me time,  _please_ , Nadi,” he whispered, Julian’s head snapping up in response to his declaration. “I  _love_  him.”

Nadia’s red eyes flickered between them, something shifting in her. “And if it was him?”

Finn swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “Then he hangs, but I hang with him.”


	48. Julian x m!Apprentice 18.

 

Julian sat atop the counter, his long legs crossed as he fiddled with one of Asra’s old trinkets. He sighed heavily, tossing the charm aside and sighed, narrowing his eyes at Finn.

Finn turned, registering the loud and attention-seeking sigh, quirking his brow. “Yes?” 

“Are you done yet?” 

Finn smirked, lighting a stubby candle and placing it tactfully on the counter beside Julian, pulling at him to uncross his legs, placing himself between them. Julian hooked his ankles behind Finn’s back, pulling him close. 

“I am,” Finn said, mischief sparkling in his eyes. 

“Well then, what is it you wanted to show me  _so_  desperately?” 

Finn refused to indulge him, relishing in his twitchy impatience. He started to undo the remaining buttons of Julian’s shirt, pushing it back over his shoulders and placing it aside. 

He splayed a hand upon the broad, bare chest, feeling the delicious shift of muscles beneath warm skin. “Mmm, yes. This will do just fine.” 

Julian swallowed, his throat bobbing, leaning back under the weight of Finn’s hands, bracing himself upon the glass counter. He was flushed, of course, his face betraying his every emotion in the way that Finn loved.

“Now, you  _have_  to stay still,” Finn whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to his clavicle, pulling the skin between his teeth ever-so-slightly, causing Julian to shiver. “Lest I set fire to you.” 

Julian nodded, watching with wide eyes as Finn picked up one of the candles. “Ah, no more fires, please,” he smirked, voice shaking. 

Finn tilted the candle, wax dripping onto his chest. Julian hissed as that delicious burn licked at his skin. Finn bit his lip, his eyes fixed upon Julian’s face as he allowed another splash to fall. A deep  _growl_  rumbled in Julian’s chest, his bottom lip drawn between his teeth, his eye practically rolling back in his head, hips _rolling_ helplessly. 

Finn paused, waiting until he held still, then continued to draw patterns with the wax lower,  _lower_  down his torso, stopping to admire the blooms of reddening skin.  An uncomfortable ache had bloomed between his legs, his hips instinctively pressing against Julian’s thigh.

The wax continued it’s cycle of drip, scald, dry, each new pattern drawing sinful sounds from the Doctor’s lips. 


	49. Julian x m!Apprentice 19.

Finn reached out, his hand meeting a cold, empty spot beside him in the bed. He groaned, yawning, noticing that it was still pitch black outside. He pulled himself from bed, seeking to drag that warm body back from wherever he had disappeared. 

He padded down the stairs, feeling a chill upon his bare chest, his feet _freezing_ upon the tile. He noticed the shop door was open, a tall figure sat on the stoop, clutching a cup of steaming coffee between long fingers. 

He sat beside him. “You know coffee keeps you _awake_ , don’t you?” 

Julian turned to look at him, his eyes heavy, _exhausted._

“ _Julian_ ,” he scolded, a shiver running through him. He wrapped his arms around himself.   


Julian flicked his long coat open, wrapping it around Finn’s shoulders. He slid his arm around his waist, tugging him against his side. “Sorry, I just… I have a lot on my mind.” 

Finn placed his head upon Julian’s shoulder, siphoning warmth from his embrace. “I know.” 

They watched the stars flicker, the sky turning from black, to purple, to orange, to blue. 

Eventually, as the new day started, the streets beginning to fill, Finn dragged a barely-awake Julian back to bed, wrapping him up in his arms, legs tangled beneath messy sheets as he finally drifted into a dreamless sleep. 


	50. Julian x f!Apprentice 3.

Julian woke to an empty bed, sunlight streaming through gauzy curtains. He irrationally felt that tight clench, that pinch of dread that he’d become so accustomed to. He hated waking alone, scarred by former lovers who didn’t have the time to stay, to hold him. 

He sighed, cursing himself for being so stupid. _She’s not him._

He wandered the hallway, noticing an alluring rise of steam filtering from beneath the bathroom door. He knocked gently, her sing-song voice calling him in. 

What he saw snatched the breath from his lungs. She stood under a cascade of water, _glistening_ in the silver of sunlight that peeled through the tiny window. Long hair clung to her back in waves, rivulets of water travelling down, down. 

He smiled, meeting this inviting eyes, and removed his clothes, stepping into the bathtub to join her. His hands reached out, exploring her body as if it was the first time, checking he still had all her freckles and dimples memorized.  


She groaned as he cupped her breasts, his hands covering, long, deft fingers stroking the soft, _soft_ skin. His clever mouth covered a nipple, lapping and sucking as the water flowed over her.

She gratefully pushed her body against his, her hand reaching between them to grab his length, stroking it slowly, carefully.

Both of his hands flew to her ass, squeezing and pulling her as close as their bodies would allow.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. I _need_ you,“ he moaned, voice a terrible, husky thing. 

She nipped at his shoulder, sharp fingernails gently running trails up and down his back.

“ _Yes_ ,” she purred, turning, bending, arching her back. She pushed against him, her hands splayed upon the tiles, waiting. 

The sight alone could have easily unmade him, but he gathered his thoughts and grabbed her hips, thumbs fitting perfectly into the dimples at the base of her spine. He positioned himself at her entrance, sheathing himself with one, drawn-out push. 

They both breathed a sigh of relief, the bliss of being connected stopping them in their tracks. They stayed still, savouring for a moment.

She glanced at him over her shoulder, water flowing down her back, her deadly curves. He moved her, then. Back and forth, back and forth; a dance to the death.

He held back as long as he could, waiting for her to come undone before he would allow himself his release. He saw her legs begin to tremble, his hands tightening their grip, stranding her. 

He saw spots as she threw her head back, curses falling from parted lips as she came undone around him, that tight, hot _clench_ pulling his own release out of him. 

She turned to face him and they kissed under the water. Soft, quick.

“Good morning,” he smirked, heart full as he held her against his chest, brushing strands of wet hair back from her flushed face.

She bit her lip. “I would say so.”


	51. Julian x m!Apprentice 20.

They usually slid through alleyways, keeping their heads down to avoid drawing any attention. Today, it was sunny, all clear, blue skies. Julian insisted that they visit the market, much to Finn’s dismay. 

He proudly clasped his hand, though, cautiously enjoying being out in the open with his fugitive boyfriend. 

Julian plucked a pomegranate from a fruit stall, suavely throwing a coin in the vendors direction with a wink. 

Finn’s heart skipped a beat, relishing in the cocky confidence Julian exuded when he was out in the wild, in the real world. No hiding in corners, behind closed doors. 

“Doctor Jules! Look… it’s him!”   


Finn tensed, his grip on Julian’s hand tightening as he spun to see who was yelling for Julian _loudly._

A small gang of kids, no older than seven or eight, ran towards them, the biggest grins on their grubby faces. 

A little girl stepped forward, her dress tinged with soot and mud, and reached out to tug at the tail of Julian’s coat. He smiled, _beamed,_ and bent down to her level. “Well, look who we have here! How are you, my darling Eliza?” 

He picked up her hand, pressing a kiss to tiny knuckles. She wrapped her arms around his neck, whispering in his ear, big, brown eyes focused on Finn. 

Finn could see Julian’s lips twitching with amusement as he listened to the girl. “This is Finn, he’s… he’s _very_ special,” he nodded, winking at Finn with a smirk. “She’s shy, say hello.” 

Finn curtseyed at the child, earning a giggle. “M’lady,” he nodded. 

“Are you eating properly? You look skinny,” Julian sighed, tickling her playfully, concern etched on his handsome face.   


She shook her head, crinkling her little nose. 

“Well,” he tutted, “that’ll never do! You _must_ eat. Do you want to be big and strong like Finn here?”   


She regarded Finn, giving him the once-over from beneath long lashes. She nodded.  

“Right then, here,” he smiled, reaching into his pocket and producing a handful of change. “Go and see the baker, promise? Get some for your friends too.”   


Eliza hugged him once more before turning and running with a wave, the rest of the children following her, all waving furiously at the generous doctor.

“I think my heart just exploded,” Finn sighed, pulling Julian into a tight embrace, his hands snaking around his waist, pressing a kiss to his jaw. 

Julian flushed, dropping his head, his hair falling over his eyepatch. “Nonsense. I just used to come out and check on them. They’re… sweet.”

“And I thought I couldn’t possibly find you more attractive.”  



	52. Julian x m!Apprentice 21.

Finn lay beside Julian, staring at the cracked ceiling of the tiny hut, trying his hardest to push the thoughts currently manifesting in his mind _far_ away.

His fingers twitched upon his stomach, itching to reach out, to tug Julian against him, to lace into that riot of red curls, to…

He _wanted_ him. It was so fast, but he’s never been more sure of anything in his life, as if it were vital to his survival. They had kissed, and he’d never felt anything like it. The hard press of his broad, tight body, the feel of long fingers tracing his jaw, his mouth, the smell of him, _everything_. 

He rolled onto his side, met with a view of Julian’s back. Was he sleeping? If he was, would he truly be able to leave him? He _needed_ rest, clearly, but Finn needed something else, something _more_. He need to know. 

He reached out, his fingers hovering tentatively, centimeters away from Julian’s back, before he pressed forward, ghosting them down his spine.

Julian spun to face him, so fast Finn recoiled, pulling his hand to his chest. 

Julian’s eyes were wide, alert. He hadn’t been sleeping at all. 

Something passed between them, and Finn pulled himself up, straddling Julian’s waist. He leaned in, their noses brushing, his hand cupping the sharp edge of Julian’s jaw, thumb brushing the soft, flushed skin on his cheek. He swallowed as Julian’s hands threaded into his hair, both of them breathing heavily, still, staring, _waiting_ for the other to make their move.

“ _Julian_ …” he whispered, his voice strained, eyes seeking answers, a signal, anything.    


Was it possible to be so, stupidly _in love_ with someone this fast? Was that even what he was feeling? Surely there was no other explanation for this, for the butterflies, for the deep, rooted  _ache_ in his chest. He was sure he’d felt it before, maybe in another, lost life, but this… this was here, _now._  

Julian’s eye traveled, up, down, taking in his lips, his eyes. His tongue flicked out to wet his lips before he closed that unbearable gap between them, meeting his mouth in a crushing kiss. 

It was so painfully wonderful that Finn thought he might break, unfurl. Every time they’d kissed it had been desperate, over too soon. Pressed against walls in dark corners, hidden, rushed. This, _this_ was something different, something _real_. 

He sat back, tugging his shirt over his head, Julian’s hands upon his chest in an instant. He made work of undoing the last buttons on Julian’s already-open shirt, Julian arching up off the mattress to allow him to remove it. They stared for a moment, appreciating one another, hands exploring, mapping muscles and freckles and _everything_. 

Finn undid his trousers, not wanting to leave his position above Julian, but rolling to the side to push them down, to nestle under the soft sheets. Julian followed, copying him, both of them bare, exposed, pressed close. 

Finn was so turned on, so _hard_ he barely knew what to do with himself. It would appear Julian was in the same predicament, his chest heaving, breath shaking as he stared at Finn. 

He shook himself from his daze, pushing Julian back against the pillows, _growling_ as he shoved Julian’s thighs apart, placing himself between them, his hands resting atop bent knees. He stroked them down thighs, muscles shifting beneath his fingertips. He dug into the sinful, arching wings of his hips.

They took their time becoming accustomed to one another until Finn finally slid slicked fingers deep, _deep_ inside. Julian’s breathing was labored, his gaze  locked on Finn’s every move, his erection straining, lips parted on a breath. He reached out, his hand pressing against Finn’s cheek. Finn turned, placing a kiss to his palm, his free hand wrapping around his wrist, holding him there. 

Finn removed his fingers from Julian, drawing circles at the inside of his quivering thighs before bending to bring their lips together. The kiss was soft, sacred. He rested his forehead to Julian’s, pushing forward with a steady roll of his hips. 

They both gasped, hands scrambling for each other, fingers lacing, squeezing, holding on _tight_ as the feeling of being inside, _there,_ rocked Finn to his core.He was pretty sure he was falling apart, unsure if he would even survive if he moved right now. Julian looked like he felt the same way, beads of sweat forming on his brow, at his chest, a wrecked, broken moan falling from his lips as Finn finally drew back, then forward, setting an _agonizingly_ slow pace. 

Finn felt his fingers getting hot, so hot he was worried he was losing control, his magic currently like a frayed nerve; so fragile it could spark, _snap_ at any moment. He quickly withdrew his hands from Julian’s skin, pressing them against the mattress either side of his head, frowning, trying to push it aside. 

_Control yourself._

Julian reached up, brushing away the furrow between his brow with a gentle swipe of his thumb, trailing it down the side of his face, coming to rest upon his plump bottom lip. “Are you okay?” He whispered, his voice breaking as Finn’s hips slammed into him once more, _harder_ this time. 

Finn nodded, gathering his shit, back in the moment. “I am, _s-so,_ so very okay,” he stuttered, a breathless laugh falling from his lips. “Julian, I…” 

Julian nodded. “Me too, _fuck_ … me too.” 

Finn could feel the pressure building in the pit of his stomach, expanding outward, almost too much to bear, breaking, _shattering_ with a cry as he felt the first crest of Julian’s orgasm. It shocked his own from him, all hope of holding on lost as he looked down and watched Julian finish on himself, the sight so unbearably _sinful_.

They cleaved together until there was nothing, _nothing_ else around them except the fast thrum of their hearts.    


Finn gracelessly collapsed upon Julian’s chest, and they shivered together, _groaning_ as they shifted, bodies no longer joined. Julian laughed, a light, airy sound. Finn pulled his head back, resting his chin upon crossed arms, laid flat upon Julian’s chest. He quirked an eyebrow in question. “Something funny?”   


Julian shook his head, suddenly serious. He ran his fingers through the mess of Finn’s unruly dark hair, nails lightly scratching his scalp. “No, not at all. In fact, I think you’ve just driven me completely mad.” He shifted beneath Finn, eliciting a growl low from deep in his chest.

“Keep doing that and I’ll have to drive you mad again,” he teased, “and again,” he pressed a kiss to Julian’s jaw, another to his throat, “and _again._ ”   


“Finn…” he said, voice still wrecked, but something _deeper_ lingering behind the words, as if he were saying something he wanted Finn to remember, without actually _saying_ it. 

Something big, vital.

“I know,” Finn responded, swallowing away a thick, nervous lump that had formed in his throat.   


_I love you._

“I know, Julian.”   



	53. Asra x Julian 4.

Julian straightened his jacket, taking a deep breath as he leaned back against Lucio’s door. The Count was still yelling profanities, throwing things at the poor servants who remained to help him dress. Julian’s painkiller would kick in soon, meaning hopefully he’d become slightly more… _placid_ for the party. 

He closed his eyes, gathering himself, quelling that rage that boiled inside him each and every time he was even near the insufferable wretch. He needed a drink, and he needed one _now_. 

As he rounded the corner into the ballroom he spotted Asra leaning over the bar, pawing at some wine bottles, the bartender oblivious. He looked radiant, his outfit wholly inappropriate for a party such as this, his chest basically completely bare. Julian appreciated it, though, and immediately made his way over to the witch despite his heart telling him, screaming at him to turn away.

Asra spun around to face him with a grin, a bottle in each hand, those dimples he so rarely got to see these days adorable upon flushed cheeks. “One for you, one for me.” 

Julian glanced around the room nervously, leaning in. “Asra! You’ll be killed if Lucio sees you stealing these,” he chided, unable to stop a smile from twitching at his lips as Asra shrugged, uncorking the bottle with his teeth and taking a long swig. “I mean… I’ll try my very best to save you, but no promises.” 

“Worry about saving yourself, Ilya,” he winked. “I can deal with Lucio just fine, especially if you gave him that pain medication we brewed.”   


Julian placed his hand underneath Asra’s elbow, guiding him to a quieter corner near the exit, lest they _did_ need to make a hasty departure. They both propped themselves against the wall, silently drinking, watching the wretched nobles of Vesuvia mingle with the townsfolk. 

Half a bottle in, Asra bumped Julian’s shoulder with his own. “Hey, wanna get out of here?” 

Julian tilted his head towards the witch, feeling the warmth radiate off him, his breath sweet with wine. His gaze flicked to those lips, then to those sparkling, lavender eyes, lazy with either lust or alcohol, he couldn’t tell. Once again, despite everything inside him telling him _no_ , he replied, “You know I do, Asra, always.” 

Julian grabbed at the edge of the dresser, white-knuckling as he attempted to steady himself, Asra greedily slamming into him from behind, filling him to the hilt. He could feel his hips bruising where Asra’s fingertips dug into his flesh. 

It certainly wouldn’t take long for either of them to come undone if Asra carried on at this relentless pace, though, that was probably for the best, they _were_ in Nadia’s chambers. Another terrible idea the reckless witch had this evening, another one that Julian had gladly gone along with. 

Julian glanced behind him, noticing the tight clench of Asra’s jaw as he concentrated on his movements, tiny beads of sweat visible on his forehead, white hair clinging to his beautiful face. Julian arched his back, raking his eyes over his lovers body, appreciating the slither of that lithe torso that was visible in that _ridiculous_ outfit. 

They weren’t concerned with undressing in the heat of the moment, their trousers pooled around their ankles, Julian’s jacket pushed up around his chest. 

Julian wrapped his hand around himself, pumping in rhythm with Asra’s quick thrusts, a guttural groan falling from parted lips as he chased his release. Asra leaned forward and grabbed a fistful of red curls, his fingers scraping against Julian’s scalp, sending shivers down his spine. Julian growled. “ _Quickly,_ do you want someone to find us?”   


Asra pulled his earlobe between his teeth, nipping hard enough to make him bleed. “Maybe I do, Ilya. Wouldn’t that be _exciting_?” 

Julian answered by pushing his body backwards, then _ever-so-slowly_ pulling forward again, rocking himself on Asra, pulling a hiss from clenched teeth. “It would be _exciting_ until they tie nooses around our necks. You know they’re all looking for an excuse to be rid of us.”    


Asra picked up his pace, reaching down to replace Julian’s hand with his own. Julian bit down on his arm to stifle a scream as he spilled out into Asra’s hand, Asra swiftly following him, driving himself deeper as he came. 

Asra tugged at Julian’s shoulders, encouraging him to turn and face him.  He pulled Julian in for a heated, _desperate_ kiss, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth, their hips brushing together as they groaned into each others mouths.

“I’ll miss you, Ilya,” Asra purred, tugging at Julian’s hair once more, exposing his neck. He sunk his teeth in, biting and sucking at the pale line of his throat. Julian bucked against him, impossibly hard again already.     


He pushed Asra away, stuffing himself back into his trousers with a frown. “What do you mean you’ll _miss me,_ ” he seethed. “You don’t want me for anything other than _this,_ you’ve made that abundantly clear.” He sat on the dresser, hands grasping at the edge. “I’m just _stupid_ enough to keep letting you.” 

Asra pulled his own trousers back up, stepping forward to place himself between Julian’s legs, his hands splayed on his thighs. Julian shuddered as he leaned in, his face dangerously close, mere inches away. “I will miss you, _all_ of you, Ilya. Think what you will, but our time together has sustained me, in more ways than one.” He picked up the wine bottle and drained it’s contents, wiping his mouth on his pristine, white sleeve. “I’m sorry if you feel hurt, just… don’t forget what we had.” 

He pressed a lingering kiss to the edge of Julian’s mouth, and it felt something like a goodbye. He stepped back, eyes raking over him, his gaze heavy, full of unshed secrets, before he turned and left. 


	54. Julian x m!Apprentice 22.

Modern AU.

Julian pointed towards the Ghost Train. “Now, _that_. That is happening right this second.”

Finn zipped up his leather jacket, his nose practically numb from the chill that had settled in the air. He carefully hooked his arm through Julian’s, glancing up at him to watch the flush dance across his pale cheeks. 

“Fine, but can we go on the Ferris Wheel after?”   


Julian smiled to himself. “Sure, it’s a deal.” 

They sat in the rickety old car, Julian’s long legs stuffed against the barrier awkwardly. It shuddered to a start, slowly crawling into a dark tunnel, complete with strobe lighting and awful, screeching sound effects. 

“Oh, now _this_ is scary!” Finn shouted dramatically, earning an elbow to his ribs. He turned to look up at Julian, admiring those cheekbones, the sharp jaw, the _full_ lips. He looked infuriatingly good in this ridiculous lighting, the flashes highlighting him in intervals, like some kind of strange, disco fantasy. 

A creaky robotic Frankenstein snapped him out of his Julian daze, the taller boy laughing at him as he jumped out of his skin. 

“And you played it _so_ cool until that point,” Julian said, knocking their shoulders together.   


They made their way to the Ferris Wheel next, Finn proudly holding on to his newly-acquired stick of cotton candy. They slipped into a carriage, sitting on opposite sides, much to Finn’s dismay. He didn’t want to be too pushy, not when it was only his second date with the confusing boy. 

Finn _wanted_ to sit beside him, longed to be close _,_ to have their knees knock together, to share chunks of messy cotton candy, their fingers brushing, sparks flying. He liked Julian so much, _too_ much, maybe. 

As the wheel carried them higher, they could see all the way across the pier, the sparkling lights beautiful, enchanting as they reflected in the calm ocean. Finn shivered, the wind so very bitter when this high up. 

Julian was next to him in a flash, pulling his red scarf from underneath his coat and wrapping it around Finn’s neck. “There,” he smiled, his gaze darting to Finn’s mouth, then back up to meet his eyes. 

“Uhm, thank you,” Finn stuttered, feeling his heart do a little leap. “Do you want some?” He held out his precious cotton candy, wiggling the stick at him.  


Julian looked… confused. “Umm, how? How exactly am I supposed to eat this? It looks… fluffy.” His perfectly imperfect nose crinkled in disgust, studying the pink floss.  

Finn stifled a laugh. _God he was cute._ “Here, do you… do you mind?” He took a piece from the stick, tentatively holding it out, offering it to him.

Julian paused for a moment, processing the gesture before leaning in and gently prying it from Finn’s fingertips with his mouth. He made a strange face, obviously he’d never had the treat before. He swallowed loudly, nodding. “Okay, yeah… I can get on board with that stuff.” 

Finn noticed he had a tiny piece attached to the corner of his mouth. “Um, you have…” he whispered, reaching out, pressing his thumb to his lips without even thinking, as if it were the most natural thing in the world to be touching him like that. 

Julian leaned into his touch, their eyes locking. He circled his fingers around Finn’s wrist, slowly guiding it back into his lap, but not letting go. Finn could feel the _quick_ thrum of his pulse protesting against Julian’s fingertips. 

Something passed between them. Maybe it was the glittering lights, maybe it was just a long time coming, a crush _finally_ turning in to something real, but as Julian leaned in and pressed his lips to Finn’s, he realized that he didn’t need a reason, an excuse, ever again. 


	55. Asra x Julian 5.

* * *

“ _P-please_.”

Asra smirked, a surge of power flowing through him like lightening as Julian begged beneath him. He closed his hands around his wrists, just shy of too-tight, pinning them above his head. 

“No. _Not_ until I say.”   


He could see the urgency, the building, pent-up _want_ that bubbled within Julian as he lazily thrust into him. “You’ll thank me, you know you will, Ilya,” he purred, running his fingers down the inside of Julian’s raised arms, down, _down_ over his ribcage, his stomach, then to the perfect, arching wings of his hipbones. 

Julian shuddered, a full-body shake accompanied by the most delicious. _desperate_ whimper, those silver eyes pleading with him. He was a new, darker shade of red, swirls of colour flowing across pale cheeks and chest. 

Sometimes Asra felt his resolve slip, that hardened facade that he placed around himself when he was with the handsome doctor. Right now, in this moment, was one of those times. He felt like he could do _anything_ with those strong thighs twisting beneath him, around him, slim hips pushing up desperately, seeking a release he wasn’t allowed… yet. 

Asra relented, pushing, rocking into Julian with heavy, steady thrusts that made his eyes roll back in his head. 

“Asra… I can’t,” he mumbled, his voice husky, broken. His hands began a slow descent down from above his head, testing the waters to see if Asra would finally allow him to touch himself, to end this torture.   


“Once, that’s all,” Asra nodded, biting his lip as he felt his own release sneaking up on him, Julian too tight, too hot, too _perfect_.   


Julian whimpered, fisting himself and stroking once, a drawn-out, _slick_ glide. He arched his back as Asra grabbed the offending hand, pinning it at his side. 

Julian bared his throat, rocking his head back as Asra’s hand made it’s way up his neck, fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. He couldn’t take it much more, as much as he’d love to watch Julian twist and beg and whimper, he just… _couldn’t._

“Okay,” he growled, feeling himself _so close_ to toppling over. Julian’s hand was around his cock in a second,  his head slamming back against the mattress as his orgasm finally shuddered from him like a crashing wave. Asra reached out and yanked those curled red locks, his own release chasing Julian’s, pulsing between their bodies with helpless rucks of his hips.  



	56. Julian x f!Apprentice 4.

She pulled back, licking her lips as she watched the bite mark disappear from his neck. He panted, chest heaving. “Well, I’m going to have to try harder, aren’t I?” She smirked, pressing herself tight against him, feeling that thick hardness against her hip. 

He groaned, _keened_ , grinding into her, his hands flying to her hips. 

A low hum of voices filtered through the curtain from the stage. Julian ripped the mask from his face, carelessly discarding it. “You’ll be the thing that unmakes me, I’m sure of it,” he said, that sparkling eye black, _blown_ with lust. 

She bit her lip, her whole body just vibrating with need, naked want spilling from every pore. She needed him, _now_ , and she was pretty sure he needed her too. The desperate way he writhed against her, seeking even the tiniest bit of friction like his life depended on it. 

She looked around the small room, noticing a cupboard, various props spilling from it. “Come,” she whispered, grabbing his hand.   


He _growled_ , realising what she was suggesting. She slammed him against the door, his body pressing it shut. In an instant she was on her knees, her hands at the buttons of his trousers. She worked quickly, freeing his erection and wrapping long fingers around the shaft. 

She looked up at him through long lashes. He looked like a man on the edge, lips open, chest and cheeks flushed, fingers splayed upon the cracked wooden door. His throat bobbed as he swallowed _hard_ , his eyes clenching shut as she finally wrapped her mouth around him. 

She hummed, the taste of him overwhelming her senses, so thick and hot and _Julian_

He tugged at her, pulling her up, his hands grabbing her legs, hitching her up around his waist. She wrapped her arms around his neck, catching his mouth in a fierce kiss as deft hands pushed her panties aside under her skirt, hissing at his finger brushed that wetness that had gathered.

“ _Fuck…_ ”

She groaned into his mouth as he guided her down, that slickness covering every inch. She grabbed the thick, soft hair at the back of his neck, trying to grasp on to something, anything to ground her as her eyes rolled back in her head. 

He spun them around, pressing her back against the door as he moved her up and down, strong arms straining, muscles shifting. 

It didn’t take them long to fall apart, landing in a heap amongst hats and masks, clothes rumpled around ankles and waists as they caught their breath.


	57. Julian x m!Apprentice 23.

Modern AU #2

___________

Finn stood outside the movie theater, cigarette pressed to his lips, taking a long, drawn drag. He exhaled, watching the smoke dance towards the starry sky. He sighed, it was _freezing,_ so cold his toes might drop off. They were nice toes, too. 

Then, _he_ appeared. That tall, broad frame skulking round the corner, cheeks and aquiline nose kissed pink from the chill. He smiled when he saw Finn, a shy, endearing grin. 

Finn’s heart began to race, and he took one final drag of his cigarette before stamping it out with the toe of his boot. “Hey,” he smiled, throwing a _so-not-cool_ wave in the direction of the taller boy. 

“Hey. Sorry I’m late, the bus…” Julian sighed, rolling his eyes. “Shall we?” 

Finn nodded, the urge to reach out and link his arm through Julian’s nagging at him. Was that allowed? Was it appropriate? He shook it off, overthinking as usual, and walked inside. 

After getting some snacks at the kiosk they made their way into the theater, choosing to sit at the very back. That was the thing to do on dates, apparently.

They shared popcorn and a pack of red vines in silence, smiling at each other each time their fingers brushed. As the lights dimmed, Finn quickly realized there was no one else in the theater. 

“Um, is this movie terrible or something?”   


Julian shrugged. “Nah, I think we’re just late to the party. It’s supposed to be great.” 

Finn nodded, shrugging off his jacket. He turned his gaze back to Julian just in time to catch him looking away, a hot flush creeping across his cheeks, down his neck to the delicate curves of his clavicle that was _just_ visible at the neckline of his t-shirt. Julian’s tongue snaked out to wet his lips, and _fuck._  Finn zeroed in on the glide of it, the simplest of gestures enough to have him squirming in his seat. 

He looked down, feeling something curl in his stomach. He heard a soft sigh escape Julian’s lips, maybe, just _maybe_ if he listened hard enough he could hear the erratic thrum of his heart. Finn looked over once more, meeting the other boy’s sparkling, silver eyes.   


Julian stretched those long legs out to rest on the back of the seat in front of him, black jeans hugging every muscle, every curve. He looked back at the screen, the flickering lights of the film dancing across his features. 

_Beautiful._  

Eventually, after being unable to concentrate on the terrible film in any shape or form, Finn leaned over, tugging up the armrest that divided them. He got in close, and whispered in Julian’s ear. “Are you uh… kinda bored?” 

Julian let out a quick, shaky laugh, nodding profusely. “ _God_ yes.” He turned, almost surprised to realize Finn was still _that_ close. He dropped his gaze, dark lashes kissing the tops of freckled cheeks. He drew his bottom lip between his teeth, silver eyes rising to meet gold. “Anything else you’d like to do?” 

Finn couldn’t help it, he grinned, a massive, shit-eating, _toothy_ grin that surely looked ridiculous. Julian laughed in response, his cheeks growing redder. He turned slightly in his seat, angling himself towards Finn as he rest his head against the back of the chair, tilting his chin. An invitation?

Finn pulled Julian’s hand from his lap, lacing their fingers together, their gaze unbroken. He leaned in and pressed their lips together, drawing a soft noise from Julian. He felt dizzy, lightheaded, _drowning_ as one kiss melted into the next, again, again, and  _again_. 

They broke for air, Julian tipping his head, seeking a better angle as his lips parted in welcome once more. Finn kissed him with everything that he had, Julian _moaning_ and pressing closer, licking deep into his mouth. 

Finn was pretty sure that if he were standing, his knees would have buckled beneath him, that hot, hot, _hot_ glide of Julian’s tongue against his own sending him into overdrive. Without thinking, he nipped at Julian’s full bottom lip, so fucking perfect he couldn’t stand it. 

Julian whimpered, pulling away, eyes so wide and blown-black he looked almost… turned on? “ _Fuck_ ,” he panted, voice hoarse as he pressed a finger to his lips.

“Sorry! I’m so s–”  


“No. _Don’t_ apologize. Just… promise you’ll do that again?”   


_Fuck._


	58. Julian x m!Apprentice 24.

* * *

Finn handed a steaming cup of coffee to Julian, their fingers brushing as the doctor took it from him. They smiled, suddenly shy, Julian turning that lovely shade of pink he so often did. 

Finn walked around to open some of the windows, letting the cool breeze whip through the shop. He felt Julian watching him, an awareness of the man that wasn’t there before. 

He leaned on the counter next to Julian, as close as he could get, their shoulders knocking. There was a strangely awkward silence between them this morning, after they had dragged themselves from the bed in Mazelinka’s tiny hut. 

The bed where they’d spent all night making love, where Finn had realized he was _in_ love. 

He cleared his throat. “Soo…” 

Julian nodded, running his finger around the rim of the mug. “Yeah, um…” 

_This is ridiculous. You had your head buried between his thighs less than two hours ago._

The sound of music began to filter in from across the street, a lovely, vibrant song. Julian looked up, instantly enthralled with the jazzy tones. “Where is that coming from?” He grinned, his foot tapping on the floor. 

“Oh, they practice just over the road most mornings. They’re great.”   


Julian placed his cup on the counter, bending his knee and holding out his palm dramatically. “Can I have this dance?” 

Finn couldn’t help but to smile, to reach out and place his hand in Julian’s, to let him pull him close, stepping in rhythm to the beat. 

They twirled, dipped, hopped, Julian leading every step of the way. He was a _great_ dancer, and by the time they were done Finn was laughing, a breathless, giddy sound. He was so, very _happy_. 

Julian pulled him tight to his chest, his hands around his waist, resting at the small of his back. They stared at one another, that awkwardness from earlier completely dissipated as they caught their breath. 

Finn felt that clench in his chest again, the one he’d felt last night, an overwhelming certainty that this was where he was supposed to be, right in the arms of this enchanting man. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but but before the words came out Julian began to stutter.  

“I… uh, I think… _no_ ,”  he cleared his throat, laughing nervously before swallowing, his throat bobbing. “I love you.” 

Finn’s breath hitched, the words stolen right from his mouth. His heart pounded against his ribcage, his skin suddenly tight, _too_ tight. He struggled to respond, so utterly overwhelmed he’d definitely forgotten how to speak. 

Julian blushed, stuttering, his eyes sad, as if he’d said the wrong thing. He loosened his grip on Finn, starting to pull away. 

Finn snapped out of it as soon as he felt that loss of contact, grabbing Julian’s shirt and pulling him down, their lips meeting in a crushing kiss. Finn broke away, pressing his forehead to Julian’s. “I love you too,” he whispered. “I think I’ve possibly loved you from the moment I threw that bottle at your head.” 

Julian exhaled, a breathless laugh. “Oh, I’ve _definitely_ loved you since that.” 

Finn reached up, lacing his fingers through that riot of red curls. He saw a softness in Julian that wasn’t there before. _Love._

“You know, I have quite a lovely bedroom upstairs.”   


Julian smirked, quirking his eyebrow. “Mmhmm…” 

With that, Finn took his hand, leading the man he loved to a place where he could show him just how much. 


	59. Julian x m!Apprentice 26.

My take on ‘the break-up.’ 

Julian x Finn. Angst warning. 

* * *

 

A funny thing, love. 

Finn had always wondered what it felt like.  _Really_  felt like. 

In another, forgotten life, he thinks he may have known once. A flicker of a memory in the deep recess of his mind, a touch that he had longed for but that was no longer his. 

Then, one night a tall,  _mess_  of a man had quite literally tumbled into his world, and nothing would ever be the same again. 

The short time they’d had together felt like an eternity in this moment, every look, every touch, every kiss, all flashing before his eyes. 

He had suspected something was wrong earlier that day, Julian replacing his usual  _‘good morning, I love you’,_  with a frown and a mumbled,  _“What if I hurt people you cared about? Would you forgive me?”_

Finn had laughed, not registering the heaviness of his words, entirely used to his musings, no matter how dark they were. “Everyone I care about is  _here_ , laying beside me.” 

Julian smiled, though it didn’t meet his eye, that mischievous sparkle missing as he sank back onto the pillow, allowing Finn to pull him against his chest.

Later, Finn had pressed him  _hard_  against the wall, sinking his teeth into his neck and making them both forget their own names as they clawed hungrily at each other in a hidden corner of a dark theater. 

Julian had pulled away, panting, flushed. “I am terrified by what I would do for you.” 

Finn had reached up to press his palm to Julian’s cheek, his thumb caressing that pillowy bottom lip, so kiss-reddened it looked almost painful. “And I you,” he had said, meaning it, with every bone in his body, every breath in his lungs. 

Now, Finn was terrified. The toes of his shoes grazed the surface of the shimmering ocean, eyes fixated on an island that felt horrifyingly familiar, listening to the love of his life tear everything apart. 

“Isn’t it best to cut things off at the pass? To spare you the trouble of a tragic ending?” 

His heart pounded in his ears, and he was barely able to register the feel of the warm body beside him. He closed his eyes, letting Julian speak, letting those words wash over him like acid. 

“I have a darkness inside me, Finn, I _know_  that.”

 _No,_  he wanted to say.  _You are light. You are good. You plucked the stars from the sky and they flow through me, every piece of me. You will never know what joy you’ve brought me._

“I want you to be safe, I want you to stay out of this whole mess. I want...” he sighed, shoulders slumping. “It doesn’t matter what I want.”

Finn turned then, a shift, an awakening. “What about me?” 

Julian’s eye went wide, tears shimmering at the reddened rim. “W-what?”

Finn swallowed, feeling wrecked, broken. “What about what I want?” 

Julian grimaced, turning away from him, unable to meet his gaze. 

_Coward._

Finn steadied himself, pushing away that urge to fight, to bloody  _beg_. He reached out, lacing their fingers together, that black, burnt brand a stark reminder. Finn followed the messy lines with his fingertip, tracing the murderers mark that should never have touched the innocent man’s skin. 

Julian looked at their joined hands, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “I can see the path our story would take, and it only ends with you in pain. I cannot live with myself if I stay, if I allow that to happen. I will  _not_ be the thing that unmakes you.” 

Finn looked up at him, trying to make sense, to find the answer written on his perfect face, illuminated so beautifully by the soft moonlight. He tried to fool himself, but all he saw was  _pain_. A pain he didn’t think he couldn’t fix, that had always been there.  

“My brain tells me to stop being stupid, to leave,” he scoffed. “And yet, my heart keeps pulling me back, back to  _you_.” 

Finn finally broke, those tears falling. He let them wash over his skin, trailing warm down cold cheeks. He took a deep breath, squeezing Julian’s hand ever tighter. “I love you, Julian. I will always love you, no matter what you’ve done, or what you think you’ve done.” 

Julian shook his head, his own tears escaping, flowing fast. Finn tugged him back, holding tight when he tried to get away, tried to pry their hands apart. 

“I am here, and I am yours,  _always_. Whatever you choose, I choose you. Wherever you go, I will be waiting for you when you return.” 

This man was his future, his heart. He was _everything._  

Words were lost now, Julian unable to do anything but shake, hold Finn as if he would never let go. 

Finn knew he couldn’t change his mind, didn’t want to try. Julian was broken, confused, and he’d known that from the moment he laid eyes on him.

If he loved him, the only thing he could truly do was to let him find what was missing, let him become whole again. He would get to the bottom of this mess, find out what had truly happened, if it was the last thing he ever did. He knew Julian was innocent, and he would prove it to them all. 

Finn accepted him, with all of his flaws, with the regret, the hope and the  _love_ that flowed inside of him. 

“For tonight, one more for the road,” Finn whispered, placing a finger beneath Julian’s chin, moving in close. 

Julian made a low noise, a desperate thing, trapped  _deep_ in his chest as Finn pressed their lips together. He carded those long fingers into Finn’s raven hair, pulling him closer. “One more,” Julian whispered, the words swallowed by another kiss. 

_One more. One more. One more. One more._

As Finn pushed the door to the shop open, Julian’s touch still lingering in his palm, on his lips, he steadied himself with a thought. 

One day Julian would realize that he deserved it,  _all_ of it, and that day would be the greatest day of their lives. 

He felt Asra’s presence before he spotted him, too tired, too  _broken_  to even think, let alone interact with him. He felt his gaze upon him, a thrum of energy,  _concern_  washing over him. 

“ _Oh_ , Finn. What has he done to you?” Asra whispered, his voice soothing, but his words biting. 

“ _Don’t_ ,” he mumbled. “Just... tell me everything will be okay. Tell me he’ll come back.” 

Asra’s warm arms wrapped around him, a gentle hand pulling his head to his chest. “If I know anything, I know that Ilya loves fully, with everything he has. He will come back, I swear it.” 

Finn believed him, even through that uncertainty, through his emotions swirling like a storm. 

Then, somewhere deep in his chest, he felt a blossom of hope, blooming, waiting to curl andgrow around the heart of the man he loved.

_Soon._


	60. Julian x m!Apprentice 27.

Finn woke in a cold sweat, his head  _pounding._ He groaned, pulling himself from an empty bed with the sheet wrapped around himself. 

He needed tea, and he needed it fast. He made his way into the kitchen, pitch black apart from a single candle that was illuminating a very tired Julian, hunched over the table. 

Julian stood quickly, his frown deepening. “What’s the matter?” He rushed over to Finn, pressing his hand to the back of his neck. “Oh, you have a fever. Sit, come on.” He ushered him to the table, urging him to sit down. 

“I’ll make you one of Mazelinka’s specialties. If I still practiced, I would give this to my patients. It’s fixed me up more than a few times when… you know,” he mumbled, waving his hand dismissively. 

Finn smiled, watching him poke around, looking for the required ingredients in various cupboards and drawers, flinging them haphazardly into the pot on the stove. 

“Why are you up at this hour  _again_? You need rest too,” Finn sighed, noticing his tired, red-rimmed eye. “Will you have some of this with me?” 

Julian frowned, pouring the…  _interesting_  smelling mixture into a cup. “Fine, if it will please you.” He presented it to him with a smile, Finn scrunching his nose before taking a swig of the strange concoction. It was…  _spicy_? 

Julian sat beside him and took his hand in his, smiling down at their entwined fingers. “Let that settle and we’ll get you back into bed. You’ll be back to normal in no time.” 

“I’m only going if you come with me,” Finn said, resting his tired head on Julian’s shoulder. He felt him relax beneath him, his own head dropping to rest upon Finn’s.

“I suppose sleep isn’t  _so_  terrifying,” Julian whispered, not sounding entirely convinced. 


	61. Asra x Julian 6.

 

Asra smirked as Ilya wrapped the silk scarf around his eyes, relishing in the role switch,much to his surprise. He liked to control things with Ilya, knowing the man had feelings that ran much deeper than plain, simple lust. 

The Doctor had shocked him with his request, and he was hesitant at first, but excited to see if Ilya would be able to go through with it, with controlling  _him_ for a change. 

Asra sat back against the headboard, Ilya steadying himself in his lap, placing Asra at his slick entrance and lowering down, down,  _down_. They both sucked in a breath as he sheathed Asra to the hilt, rocking his hips in a steady pace, his hands clasped at the nape of his neck, fingers carding desperately through soft, white hair. 

Ilya tugged his head back, placing hot, open-mouthed kisses upon the sweat-slicked skin of his neck. Asra couldn’t resist, moving his hands around Ilya’s back to grip at the firmness of his backside as he moved upon him. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Asra purred, every shock and shiver amplified with his eyes shieldes. He felt strange, like he was in another world. Then, a flash of a face, a smile long-lost to him flickering in the depths of his mind. As the pleasure took hold, he lost control, a name that was not Ilya’s falling from his lips. 

Ilya stilled, blunt nails digging into the flesh of his shoulders. Asra tensed, waiting for the onslaught, the inevitable argument, but Ilya surprised him once again as he leaned in close, lips ghosting next to his ear. 

“I  _dare_  you to say that name again,” he hissed,  _venomous_ , sending shivers down Asra’s spine as he started to rock again, setting a relentless, punishing pace. 

Asra smirked, the flash of guilt melting away as he appreciated the spike in Ilya’s ferocity, enjoying that sinful slap of flesh that sung throughout the room.


	62. Julian x m!Apprentice 28.

Modern AU

Inspired by this;

  


 

 

Finn tapped his fingers on the battered steering wheel in time to the music that blared too-loud from the stereo.

He bent to look out the passenger window, seeking a boy with bright red curls in the darkness.

As if by magic, he appeared, long legs carrying him toward the car.

Finn smiled, leaning over awkwardly to open the door for him, watching that familiar slouch of broad shoulders as Julian settled in his seat.

“Hey,” he said, blissful to be in his company once more. “Are yo—”

Finn stopped in his tracks as Julian turned to look at him, noticing an addition to his handsome face. “ _Fuck.”_

Julian sighed dropping his head, the glasses sliding down to rest upon the perfectly imperfect ridge of his nose. “I know, I hate them.”

Finn reached out and grabbed his chin lightly, tilting his head to catch his gaze. “You look fucking  _hot_.”

Julian’s silver eyes grew comically wide, his long fingers pushing the glasses back into their rightful place. “What? N-no, I look like a total  _dork_.”

Finn shook his head incredulously, forever in awe that the boy couldn’t see how crazy beautiful he was. The streetlight outside bathed him in a warm glow, illuminating the pink kissing his cheeks, trailing to the tips of his ears. “No,” Finn sighed. “You are fucking  _hot.”_

Julian opened his mouth, but before any more words of self-depreciating protest fell from his lips, Finn had fisted his coat and tugged him into a crushing kiss.

Julian believed him after that.


	63. Asra x nb!Apprentice 8.

 

Asra smiled as he saw them, a shimmering, moonlit visage in his mind.

He sighed, swearing he could feel their warm breath on his neck, the ghosting touch of their fingertips. He leaned back against the tree, the bark sharp against his skin. He took a deep breath, concentrating, keeping his thoughts fixed on them.

_A figure in a bed, laying on their back, greedy hands pandering between their thighs. They moan his name, it’s breathy, desperate. They roll their hips gratefully, head thrown back in ecstasy._

He fisted himself, eyes clenched shut as he moved with them, as if he were there, as if they were joined, together.

His tongue flicked out to lick his lips, tasting them, that sweetness, the familiarity. He shuddered, and somehow, he knew they shuddered too, each movement as fluid, as in-sync as the next.

He heard his name again, breathy, fading. As he came undone, they did too, an earth-shattering, shaking feeling. He sparked, something inside him unfurling over, and over, and  _over_.

With that, they were gone. A swirl, a haze, floating up into the stars. He panted, lips parted as a stray tear escaped sad, violet eyes.

_Soon, my love._


	64. Asra x nb!Apprentice 9.

Asra sat at the shop table, his hands splayed upon it. He looked down at the cards, smiling as he heard light footsteps approaching. 

“Morning.”

Hands snaked around his shoulders, pulling him back against a warm chest, a kiss pressed to his temple. “Morning.” 

They walked over to the kitchenette, stretching their limbs as they went. They yawned, rummaging around in the cupboards for Asra’s stash of blooming tea. “Would you like anything in particular?” 

They smiled over their shoulder, the sunlight just beginning to peek through the curtains, golden rays kissing their skin. 

He sighed, feeling calm, blissful. “Let’s go with orange blossom.”

They nodded in agreement, placing the neat little bundle in the pot, cupping their hands around the porcelain. Steam began to rise, a low whistle escaping the spout. 

They placed two cups upon the table, the citrusy scent filling his nostrils. He reached out, pulling them to sit on his lap. 

As they flipped the cards, concentration furrowing their brow, he couldn’t help but feel like this is exactly how life should _always_ be. 

He ran a finger along the bared skin of their clavicle, grinning as they shivered beneath his touch. 

“You’re distracting,” they scolded, their tone betrayed by their smile.


	65. Julian x m!Apprentice 29.

Julian felt a warm hand slide possessively over his bare waist, eager fingers twitching upon his skin. He smiled, the touch quietly lulling him from his sleep.

Another hand began to make its way up his arm, over his shoulder, into his hair, fingers scratching lightly at his scalp.

“Good morning, handsome,” Finn whispered, his body tucked tight against Julian’s side. He was so deliciously warm, fitting so perfectly against him.

Julian grumbled, selfishly pretending he was still in dreamland, knowing Finn would continue his feather-light touches to stir him.

He felt Finn smile against his skin, his lips ghosting just below his jaw before placing lazy open-mouthed kisses there. He kissed a trail down his throat, throwing a leg over his waist as he carefully straddled his hips.

Julian couldn’t pretend he was asleep anymore, his hands unable to resist resting upon those thighs, feeling the muscles twitch beneath his palm as he shifted.

Finn smiled down at him, looking like a bloody  _god_  as the morning sun shined, a halo of light surrounding him. He brushed his fingertips over Julian’s lips, and Julian caught his hand, turning his face to gently kiss his palm, his wrist, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse against his lips.

“Morning,” Julian smiled, lazy,  _happy_.


	66. Julian x m!Apprentice 30.

 

“This is,  _ahh_ … This is entirel— oh!”

“Stop talking,” Finn murmured, splaying his cold hand upon Julian’s stomach and pushing him back against the wall.

Julian’s eye rolled back in his head as that hot, talented mouth drew him back inside, his tongue circling the tip before he took him all the way down to the root. 

His hand hovered above Finn’s head, wanting so badly to tangle his fingers in those raven locks, to grab him, to…

Finn reached out and forced his hovering hand into his hair, looking up at him through those dark, long lashes. He groaned when Julian gently pushed his head forward, the noise reverberating through Julian’s body.

He slammed his head back against the alley wall. “ _Fuck!_ ”

Finn pulled back, releasing him with a sinful  _pop_ , gazing up with an even more sinful smile, his lips red, panting. “You taste so good,” he purred, gripping the base of Julian’s cock in his fist, pushing the flushed head back between his parted lips.

Julian’s knees went weak, so used to being the one inflicting the pleasure, he felt giddy with their roles reversed.

That slick heat, the glide of his tongue, seeing Finn on his knees, slowly going down, down, lips parting to take him.

Julian reached down, framing Finn’s sharp jaw with trembling fingers, watching in wonder as he kept going down, down,  _down_  until his nose brushed against the clenched muscles of Julian’s stomach.

He came with an embarrassingly loud cry, spilling into Finn’s mouth as he gratefully swallowed every last drop. He continued to suck lightly, sending sparks shooting throughout Julian’s body until he was a whimpering, shaking mess.

Finn released him, standing to crush their mouths together in a depraved kiss, Julian tasting himself on his tongue.


	67. Julian x m!Apprentice 31.

Finn had never been a shy man. He was confident, sometimes to a fault, but Julian loved that about him.

Julian  _specifically_  loved it in this moment, bent over with Finn thrusting into him from behind, a tactfully placed full-length mirror propped against the wall in front of them.

Finn tugged at Julian, pulling him back against his chest. “Look at yourself,” he purred, the raspiness of his voice sending a shiver down his spine. His hand travelled down, down his chest, his abdomen, before finally curling his fingers around his cock. “You’re  _perfect_.”

Julian watched intently, watched Finn’s hand pump his length, watched the muscles in his stomach clench, his thighs twitching as Finn continued his languid thrusts.

He watched as Finn pressed open-mouthed kisses upon his neck, noticing the pink flush that painted his chest, his nose.

“Do you see now? See what I see?” Finn whispered, their eyes locking in the mirror.

Julian bit his lip, feeling like he was seeing himself for the first time, a different man staring back at him in that glass. He was strong, powerful, and kind of beautiful.

He grinned, dropping his hand to curl around Finn’s, helping him set a pace that was sure to tip him over the edge. He threw his head back upon Finn’s shoulder, seeking his lips as he turned to face him. They kissed, but his eyes were open, watching,  _fascinated_ by how incredible they looked together.

Finn gently pushed him back down, his hands grabbing his hips, thumbs fitting perfectly in those dimples at the base of his spine. He watched Finn stare down at the point where they joined, such naked, unashamed  _lust_  shining in those golden eyes.

Julian dropped to rest upon his elbows, arching his back that little bit more, the slight change in angle sending sparks throughout his body. He fisted the sheets, watching as Finn reached down to grab at that heat between his legs once more, ready to coax that delicious release from him.

He met Finn’s gaze, smiling,  _smirking_  as he spilled out into his hand, a strangled cry falling from his lips. Finn groaned, a low rumble that reverberated throughout Julian, right from the point where they connected as Finn finished inside him with a final, shuddering thrust of expert hips.

Finn stayed inside him, pressing his chest down against his back and whispering in his ear. “Did you like what you saw?”

Julian nodded, bottom lip pulled between his teeth. He wiggled his hips, causing Finn to hiss, to laugh through the movement as he aggravated his still-sensitive cock.

“I did. We are quite nice together, are we not?”

Finn pulled at him, both of them collapsing into a mess of tangled limbs, sated smiles and lazy kisses.


	68. Julian x m!Apprentice 32.

Finn walked down the stairs, still half-asleep and rocking a fetching bed head.

Julian smiled as he walked into the kitchen, lifting his head from his now-cold coffee. His eyes went wide, his mouth dry as he took in what was in front of him.

“Is… is that my shirt?”

Finn looked down, a rare flush creeping across his cheeks. He wrapped his arms around himself. “Um, yes. Is that okay? I just…” he chuckled, a strange, nervous sound.

Julian hadn’t seen him flustered before, it was…  _adorable_. “I mean, it’s fine. More than fine, in fact,” he grinned, eyeing him appreciatively. The shirt was open at the front, that tight,  _toned_  torso bared, his tattoo peeking out deliciously.

Julian stood and stalked over to him, pulling his arms from around his waist and replacing them with his own.

Finn crinkled his nose. “I put it on sometimes when I know you’re not coming back to bed, okay?”

Julian sighed, his heart fit to burst in his chest. “You are, frankly, the best thing on this earth.”

Finn smiled, still slightly embarrassed but quickly melting as Julian bent to press a kiss to his jaw.

“It looks far better on you than me.”

“It looks far better on the floor.”


	69. Julian x m!Apprentice 32.

Julian’s POV of the breakup. A follow-up of sorts to my Finn POV which you can find [here](https://drdevorakwrites.tumblr.com/post/167496997673/my-take-on-the-break-up-julian-x-finn-angst). 

Angst.  _Also, I listened to[Rain from Cowboy Bebop](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l9_p-nhZXLg) when writing this. _

* * *

 

He’d barely turned the corner when the rain started. He stopped, letting it wash over him, his hair sticking to his face, his clothes drenched. His heart was in his throat, a maddening thrum that told him to turn, to take it all  _back_.

 _Coward,_ he thought as he glanced back at that familiar wooden door, the door to a place he’d come to call home, to feel  _safe_  in. The place where the man he loved was currently in the arms of another, being comforted for the heartbreak  _he_  had inflicted. 

He shouldn’t have lingered, shouldn’t have looked, but he wanted to make sure he was safe. He scoffs at that thought, knowing that Finn would never be safe, not as long as he was in love with a man like Julian. 

He turned away again, cursing under his breath as he began to run. The love that bound them would terrorize him,  _haunt_ him with ghosts from a past he couldn’t remember. He knew, without a doubt, that he wasn’t brave enough to face them, not even with Finn at his side. Not with Finn there to be hurt, to be dragged into the crossfire of this  _shitshow_  he called his life. 

No, he was doing the right thing, even if it felt so,  _painfully_  wrong. 

He pressed his back to the wall of the dark, cold alley, wrapping his arms around himself, trying to hold himself together. He realized that now there was nothing,  that he would be alone in his head again, and that thought was scarier than anything. 

 _“We both know I was never good enough for you,”_  he had said. Finn had grimaced, and he’d felt stupid, selfish. Finn  _loved_  him with all he had, and he was trying to devalue it, to make all of this easier on himself. 

Yet, Finn had still reached for him,  _kissed_  him until both of them had nothing left to give but a reluctant goodbye. His chest felt tight, his heart pounding triple-time in his ribcage, rattling him. He took a deep breath and walked blindly towards the only other place he knew he would be safe.

He climbed through the window, falling in a graceless heap on the kitchen floor. She wasn’t home, just to top off an already awful night. He curled his upper lip, snarling and rifling through the cupboard to find something,  _anything_  to dull this pain. 

Thoughts of a golden-eyed boy with raven hair and a devilish smile flickered through his mind as he closed his eyes, letting sleep claim him for the first time in forever. 


	70. Julian x m!Apprentice 33.

****Reunion after the 'breakup'  
  


* * *

 

  
“I… I’m sorry. I cannot live without you.”

The words were out of his mouth before Finn had even managed to open the door properly. He stood still, staring at Julian. He looked tired, sad, confused.

How could he have been so stupid to think that Finn would even still want him after the way he fled like a coward. The silence was deafening, and Julian closed his eyes, turning to walk away, to accept his fate.

“Wait,” Finn yelled, running out into the rain, reaching to catch his wrist.

Julian turned, that touch he’d been longing for electric upon his skin. He sucked in an unsteady breath, his gaze focused on Finn’s face. “Finn…”

“Don’t,” he whispered, pulling him into the warmth of the shop.

Finn closed the door, his hand still holding on to Julian’s wrist. He stepped towards him, so close Julian could feel his warm breath upon rain-soaked skin.

Finn closed his eyes, shaking his head as if he was battling with himself. Then, he leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. “I missed you,” he whispered.

Julian felt weak, drunk with an overwhelming happiness;  _love_. “I love you.” As if that was all that needed to be said.

Finn opened his mouth as if to speak, Julian’s finger pressed to his lips before the words escape. “ _I love you,_ ” Julian repeated. “I’m stupid, and scared. I want to be yours, always, I just don’t know how.”

Finn nodded, his eyes brimming with tears. “But?” he asked, voice quiet, tentative.

Julian’s hands went to his waist, testing the waters. Finn gratefully moved into him, their bodies flush, close. Every move Finn made caused his thrumming anxiety to dissipate piece by awful piece until he felt light,  _whole_.

This man had an incredible power over him, a power that may even terrify Julian if he didn’t need it to survive. He trusted Finn implicitly, in a way he’d never even trusted himself.

“There is no ‘but’, my love. I need you, more than I need anything. I’ve been a fool, and if you’ll have me…”

Finn pulled away to look at him, brows furrowed. He looked fragile,  _tired_ , and still the most beautiful thing Julian had ever seen. He felt his broken heart slowly pulling itself back together from merely being in his presence.

Finn paused, before slipping a hand around the back of Julian’s neck, cupping gently at the curve of his skull. “I can’t do it again. I barely survived, promise me…”

“I promise, god I  _promise_.”

Because of course, of  _course_  he promised. He’d been living the life of a fugitive too long, scared in the shadows and snarling at anyone who came near. That was until Finnegan Lightwood, his light in the dark, a fucking  _revelation_ , an awakening.

Finn kissed him then, sinking gratefully against his frame. He slid his fingers up into that riot of damp, red curls, his grip tightening as he parted his lips for Julian’s tongue. Finn welcomed him, a soft moan swallowed by Julian’s mouth, both of them shuddering as Finn pressed closer, scrambling, pouring himself into Julian.

It went from breathless and sweet, to chaotic and  _desperate_  in a millisecond, both of them clutching at one another with a need that bordered on devotion.

The  _noises_ Finn made every time Julian’s tongue brushed against his own, the way he shuddered and writhed against him, both already so painfully hard it was profane. Julian wanted to tug Finn down, to lay him upon the cold stone floor and have him cover him, strip him back until he could trace his tongue along those hard, beautiful lines of skin. He wanted to ensure he still had every inch of him memorised, to spread his thighs and invite him in.

“Yes,” Finn whispered, breathless as he broke away from the increasingly desperate kiss.

He grabbed Julian’s hands, placing them above his head, against the door. His mouth slowly nipped down Julian’s jaw, his hand grasping his pointed chin, pushing his head back with a thud. He traced the lines of his throat with the tip of his tongue, sucking a hurried bruise into pale skin.

Julian arched up against him, his hands coming down to grab at his hips, pulling at him as they both fell to their knees. The stone was hard, a welcome bite of pain to pull him out of his daze. This felt new, like nothing he’d experienced before, glistening, painful and  _right_.

“I love you,” Julian groaned, muffled against Finn’s perfect mouth as he caught him in another kiss.

They both fumbled to remove each other’s clothes, Julian digging his fingers into the waistband of Finn’s unbuttoned trousers, tugging roughly. He would tear, rip it all to shreds to get to that bare skin. Finn had the same look of desperation, his golden eyes flickering over Julian’s now-bare body, flushed rosy and hard and  _waiting_  for him.

Julian submitted, laying on the floor, his hands reaching out in invitation. “Please,” he whispered, desperate.

Finn covered him, crawling over him and leaning in to bite his way down his throat, his chest. “We should…” he groaned, Julian grinding up against him, their cocks brushing together. “ _Fuck_. We should move, Asra could walk—

“No. Just…

_please_

,” Julian whimpered, certain he wouldn’t survive another minute if Finn wasn’t inside him. His chest, his

_everything_

aching for him.

Finn growled, bearing down on him, aching and hard against him. He thrust down once, gentle hands parting Julian’s thighs to settle between them. Deft fingers encircled his entrance, and Julian let out a soft, keening noise, his eye fluttering closed.

Finn disappeared for a moment, re-appearing with a jar of slick, looking down at Julian with a wicked grin. His cheeks were beautifully flushed, that raven hair falling messily in his eyes.

He was perfect, a work of art, so beautiful it snatched the breath from Julian’s lungs. All he could do was reach up, trace the lines of Finn’s chest with a dazed sort of need, his hips arching off the ground as Finn pressed a slick digit inside, curling,  _beckoning_.

Finn leaned in, chests flush, not an inch between them. Julian writhed and whimpered as Finn expertly stretched him, knowing his body like no other, every nerve on fire.

“You’re perfect, so  _fucking_  perfect,” Finn whispered, as close as a kiss as he watched Julian with a sort of reverence. He removed his fingers, wrapping his still-slick hand around his cock, a moan falling from parted lips as he stroked himself.

Julian reached out to cup his face and kissed him, barely leashed as he reached to grip at Finn’s hips.

Finn placed himself at his entrance and surged forward, slowly pressing inside inch by delicious inch. A breathless laugh fell from his lips as he stilled, sheathed fully. He ran his fingers down Julian’s shaking thighs, soothing him, Julian relishing in the feeling of being filled,  _whole_  again.

Finn lips were swollen, a grin so beautifully infectious plastered on his handsome face. He growled when Julian writhed beneath him, sucking in a breath.

“Julian,” he breathed, the word dripping with emotion, gentle as he placed his hand upon his face. He began to move, so painfully slow that Julian thought he might cry, unfurl.

They both closed their eyes, something greater than lust washing over them, a new kind of emotion that was raw, beautiful.  _Magic._

Finn laced his fingers through Julian’s hair, pressing a kiss to his temple, his cheek, the corner of his mouth. Julian gripped him tighter, wrapping himself around him. He wanted to protect him, a broken and desperate man wanting to keep this person he loved from suffering at all costs. Anything, he would do  _anything._

He wanted to lose himself in the thrust of Finn’s hips, in the way he moved and groaned above him, those golden eyes locked on his grey. Finn smiled, circling Julian’s cock with delicate fingers, stroking him in time with his now-languid thrusts.

It didn’t take long for Julian to come, Finn unmaking him, expert in the way he touched him, the way he moved. Julian relaxed as his orgasm ended, so in love it was like a madness.

Finn hissed through clenched teeth as Julian contracted around him, laying sated and beautiful beneath him. He came with a cry, muffling the sound against Julian’s neck, pulling the skin between his teeth.

They lay on that shop floor for what felt like hours, a mess of damp hair, a tangle of limbs and bare skin. As the breath returned to Julian’s lungs, he turned to look at Finn. “I meant what I said.”

Finn drew lazy circles upon his chest, fingers gently brushing the smattering of hair there, a lazy smile on his lips. “I know.”

The urge to lose himself in Finn’s warm skin again, his muscles, those sweet noises he made, was overwhelming. Now, though, there was a feeling of hope burning in the pit of his stomach.

They had time.

Tonight, Julian would sleep for the first time in as long as he could remember, the feeling of knowing that Finn would be there, always, for as long as they both had.

And if that wasn’t the most beautiful thought…


	71. Julian x m!Apprentice 34.

Julian hadn’t slept again. He did, however, have every crack on the ceiling memorised, along with exactly how many circles there were on the wallpaper pattern. 

He smiled as Finn shifted against him, that deliciously familiar warmth pressed tight to his side, his head fitting perfectly upon his shoulder. 

He looked down just in time to see those long, ridiculously thick lashes fluttering open, sleepy golden eyes meeting his gaze. “Julian,” he sighed, lips quirking into a smile. 

Julian’s heart skipped a beat, his name always the first word out of Finn’s mouth each morning, yet it still caught him by surprise. He always said it as if he were surprised to see him, yet so _happy_ he was there. 

“Morning,” he said, long fingers attempting to put the mess of raven hair back in its rightful place; an impossible task. He gave up, accepting that no one could tame this particular bedhead but Finn himself. He probably used magic. 

Finn threw a possessive arm over Julian’s waist, fingers digging into his side, tugging him tighter. He tilted his head up, the perfect angle to press a kiss to Julian’s jaw. 

It wouldn’t be long until this lazy morning turned into something needy, heated. It always did, neither of them able to resist each other when there was this much bare skin and tangled limbs involved. 

Julian chuckled as Finn trailed soft kisses down the line of his throat, shifting his position to press his lips to his clavicle, then his chest. Finn hummed, content as Julian ghosted those long fingers down his spine, then clasping his hands at the base. 

“I love you,” he whispered, Finn’s chin pressed to his chest, those big eyes gazing up at him. He lay flat upon Julian now, every hard line of him warm upon his skin. 

Finn smiled, so painfully handsome and _his_ that Julian couldn’t help but smile back. 

“I love you too.”


	72. Julian x m!Apprentice 35.

Uhm, how… how do I do this?” 

Finn chuckled, amazed at how Julian could _still_ get so flustered after all they’d done together. “Just… lay down.” 

Julian obliged, that beautiful, familiar pink swirl of colour blooming upon his cheeks as he watched Finn crawl up his body, a silver eye taking in every twitch of muscle. 

He exhaled loudly when he realised Finn wasn’t stopping, looking up at him with a certain hunger as he turned, resting his thighs either side of his neck. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Julian whimpered, his hands reaching up, greedily palming at the firmness of Finn’s backside, so beautifully presented in front of him. 

Finn groaned, relishing in the feel of those long, talented fingers kneading him, parting him. He was surprised at how receptive Julian had been to this particular suggestion, a first for both of them. It was nice to be on the receiving end of such pleasures for once, he was sure…

Julian took a deep breath, leaning in and placing his lips right _there_ , instantly an expert as he began to enjoy it, to relax as Finn began to writhe above him, overwhelmed by how _good_ it felt.   


Julian’s hands found their way to his cock, his hips arching up off the bed as he stroked himself, his tongue lapping, drawing lazy circles around Finn’s entrance, driving him crazy. 

Finn leaned forward slightly, the new angle a revelation as Julian went deeper, the sight of him touching himself simply adding to the fact that Finn was desperate for a release of his own. He groaned, laying flat upon Julian, swatting his hands away and replacing them with his mouth. 

Julian’s hands grabbed at Finn’s backside for leverage, a _loud_ , shaky moan falling from occupied lips, the vibration reverberating through Finn, shaking him to his core. 

Julian, clearly feeling adventurous, pressed a tentative finger at Finn’s entrance, causing him to release Julian from his mouth with a sinful _pop_. “Yes…” 

Julian pushed the long digit inside, hesitant at first, but upon realising what it did to Finn, he found a delicious rhythm. He watched every clench of tight muscle, the way his arms twitched, his legs tightening either side of his chest. It was heaven watching the man he loved come undone by his hand. 

“Julian, I can’t… I’m going to—“

Julian reached around, fisting Finn’s _hard_ length, a mere two or three strokes and he was a whimpering, shaking mess, spilling out onto Julian’s chest. 

He paused, gathering his breath, his legs shaking, before he moved away, travelling down Julian’s body and placing himself between his legs with a lazy grin. 

Julian propped himself up on his elbows, ensuring he got a good view as Finn took him back into his mouth. Golden eyes locked with silver, and Julian knew he was done for.


	73. Julian x Asra x m!Apprentice 2.

Finn pressed his thumbs into those perfect hipbones, Julian arching up off the mattress in response. He looked up, a pang of jealousy, of _possession,_ coarsing through him as he watched Asra pull pale skin between his teeth, nipping and sucking at Julian’s throat, his hand travelling down, _down_ that broad chest. 

Finn growled, grey eyes meeting Asra’s violet, and they both smiled. 

Asra laced his fingers through that riot of red curls, whispering something in Julian’s ear, his eyes never leaving Finn’s. Julian whimpered, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and biting _hard._  His hips bucked again, gravitating towards Finn, towards that hot, slick mouth, his erection painfully hard, _begging_ to be touched. 

Finn trailed a gentle touch down to the inside of Julian’s thighs, his knees shaking, quivering in response. He tipped his head back in ecstasy as Finn finally, _finally_ tasted him, his tongue flicking out to brush over the flushed head of his cock, to lap up the wetness that had escaped.

Asra groaned at the sight of it, his eyes blown-black, nothing but lust there now. He tugged at Julian’s hair, jolting him forward to make sure he was watching what Finn was doing to him, to make sure that he could see, _feel_ , everything. He pressed his bare chest against Julian’s back, his legs wrapped around his waist. 

Julian’s fingers twitched against the silky sheets, itching to grab, to touch, to… _anything_. 

“Don’t make us restrain you,” Asra hissed, noticing the doctors impatience, pulling Julian’s earlobe between his teeth and biting down once, his tongue quickly soothing away the sting. 

Finn parted Julian’s legs further, easing a slick finger inside slowly, so _fucking_ slow that Julian’s chest began to heave, desperate, panting breaths falling from his lips. 

Finn ground down against the mattress, trying to ease some of his own desire as he pushed inside that tight heat, Julian’s cock still inside his mouth, his cheeks hollowed, sucking _hard_ with every movement. Up, down, up, down. 

Asra groaned, Finn looking up at him just in time to catch him reaching down, his hand pandering between his thighs, those clever fingers curling around his shaft. Julian turned his head, watching Asra stroke himself, that flush upon his cheeks swirling ever darker.

Finn curled his finger, causing Julian to quickly snap his gaze back to him. “You’ll pay for that,” Finn smirked, quickly taking Julian back into his mouth. 

“P-please… I’m going to…”   


“Shhhhh,” Asra whispered, smiling into Julian’s hair, his voice breaking as he continued to stroke himself. “Be good, and you’ll berewarded.”   


Finn removed his finger from inside Julian, kneeling and wrapping his hand around his own aching erection and Julian’s, stroking them together in delicious tandem. The three of them were close, so _close_ now that he could hear the thumping heartbeats of the two men, their warm breath upon his skin. 

He leaned in, kissing Asra over Julian’s shoulder, before pressing his lips to Julian’s, swallowing his groan as he finally came undone, spilling out into Finn’s hand, onto his own stomach. Asra watched intently as Finn followed him, Julian finally able to break the rules, his hand flying to cover Finn’s, helping him with his final, shuddering strokes. 

“ _Yes_ ,” Asra whispered, voice thick, _heavy_. He watched the two men kiss, gentle, _loving_ as they came down, then…  


  


“Finn? _Finn.._.”  


Finn sat up with a jolt, panting and, _fuck_ … really hard. He felt Julian’s hand upon his back, rubbing soothing circles on bare skin. 

“What is it? You were talking in your sleep…”  


Finn flushed, the heat in his cheeks foreign. “Uhm… I was dreaming,” he smirked, quickly turning to Julian and catching his lips in a heated kiss. 

Julian chuckled, grasping at Finn’s waist as he straddled his hips. “Oh, uh… good morning?” 


	74. Julian x m!Apprebtice 36.

Julian didn’t know what was worse; the fact that he was burning from the tips of his ears to the ends of his toes, or the fact that he was forbidden from grinding down against the mattress and seeking that friction he so desperately desired. 

He couldn’t think, couldn’t so much as make a pathetic noise. 

Finn’s hands kneaded his cheeks, long fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, that unbearable line between pain and pleasure that he had perfected. His tongue drew lazy circles around his entrance, so meticulous in his assault that he had Julian seeing stars from the first lick. 

It was when he began to dip inside, to pick up the pace, that Julian truly lost his cool. That hot, _slick_ glide as he pushed, _sucked_ , had Julian breaking the rules, bucking against the sheets as if his life depended on it. 

A low, keening sound fell from his lips, something that sounded a lot like a plea for mercy to Finn. Finn raised his palm, smacking it down _hard_ upon one pale, firm ass cheek in punishment, causing Julian to writhe one more time before he lost control. 

The feel of Finn’s talented mouth working him over, the soft, silky rasp of the sheets against his _painfully_ hard erection a recipe for disaster. He came with a cry, feeling the warmth spread beneath him, soaking the sheets and his stomach. 

He felt Finn smirk against his skin, moving up to press chaste kisses to the base of his spine, his hands gently rubbing circles on his reddened ass cheeks, soothing away the sting. 

Then, he covered him, lying flat upon him, skin to skin, chest upon his back. He leaned in and pulled Julian’s earlobe between his teeth. “My turn,” he purred. 

Julian felt Finn’s hardness press against him, smiling to himself as he arched his back, eliciting a growl from Finn’s lips, lips that were now pressed against his throat.


	75. Julian x m! Apprentice 37.

Modern AU

______

Finn’s phone buzzed on his desk and he smiled, that black heart emoji flashing next to his favorite name. 

20:04 - Julian: _Hey! What you up to?_

20:05 - Finn: _Just practicing my readings, nothing too exciting. You?_

20:10 - Julian: _So… my family have gone out. Do you want to come over? Bring your cards, I can help you practice?_

Finn’s eyes widened and, before he could even think, he’d haphazardly piled his tarot cards into their pouch, stuffing them in his coat pocket. He quickly typed his reply as he grabbed his car keys. 

_20:12 - Finn: On my way :)_

* * *

Julian looked around his immaculate room. Finn. _Finn_ was coming to… hang out. 

In a flash all he could think about was the hard press of his lips the last time they’d been alone together, the grip of his hand, the way he smelt like freshly cut grass and dirt and fresh air. He swallowed thickly, checking himself in the mirror, brushing a piece of lint from his jeans. 

It wasn’t long before there was a quick knock at the door, a smiling Finn greeting him on the other side. “Hi.” 

Julian flushed, _of course_. “Hello. Uh… come in!” He stepped back, gesturing towards the stairs. “Room… _my room_ , it’s uh… up there.” 

Finn grinned in that way that made Julian weak as he breezed past him, all the confidence in the world as he made his way up the stairs. He glanced back at Julian. “Well, are you coming?” 

Julian cleared his throat, nodding and quickly catching up with him. Finn stepped into his room, those golden eyes taking everything in; the desk covered in ineligible notes, the full-to-the-brim bookshelves, the well-made bed. 

“Nice digs. Can I sit?” Finn said, pointing to the bed.   


Julian nodded, taking a seat next to him, their knees knocking. He watched intently as Finn removed his leather jacket, revealing a tight, short-sleeved black t-shirt and those well-toned arms. He felt the flush that had taken residence upon his cheeks burn hotter, his fingers twitching in his lap. 

Finn crossed his legs on the mattress, facing Julian. “So, this is _nice_ ,” he smiled, his gaze fixed firmly on Julian’s lips. “Do you bringall the boys to your room?” 

Julian chuckled nervously, shaking his head. “You’re the first. Uh… I mean,” he stuttered. “Yeah… only you.” He drew his long legs beneath him, facing Finn now. He had _Finn_ in his room, on his _bed_. 

_Was this real?_  

Finn edged forward, his hands splayed upon Julian’s knees. He dipped his lashes, looking vulnerable for once. “I, uh… I enjoy being alone with you, Julian.”

Something came over Julian in that moment, this boy having some kind of magical power over him that sent him crazy. He pulled himself back, leaning against the headboard, and reached out, beckoning for Finn to join him. He wanted, _needed,_ his touch, his _anything_. 

Finn crawled forward, fitting perfectly between Julian’s open legs, his arms braced either side of Julian’s shoulders, grasping on to the headboard. He leaned in, his face dangerously close.  

Julian brushed his fingers along a tempting sliver of bared skin that peeked out from beneath the hem of Finn’s shirt, the simplest of touches more than enough to send sparks through him. Finn’s breath hitched, then… _okay._ Julian was getting turned on, fast.  

As Finn looked up at him, those piercing eyes blown-black, Julian felt a flare of embarrassment threatening to overwhelm the sparks that bloomed in the pit of his stomach. Finn bit his lip, sitting back and reaching for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head and… _oh._  

He was _perfect_. 

Julian quickly took him in, his lashes dipping down, then up the toned, hard lines of his torso. Finn was hovering over him in a second, Julian reaching around to ghost his fingers down his spine, causing the boy to shiver, to _groan_. 

Julian was so hard, his erection straining against his too-tight jeans. God, they hadn’t even _kissed_ tonight… not yet. Was this normal? Was this what it was _supposed_ to feel like? 

Then Finn surged forward, pressing his lips to Julian’s in a searing kiss. It went deep, _hungry_ , almost immediately, their tongues slicking, Finn pressing _hard_ against him, the harsh rasp of denim-on-denim as their hips met. Julian gasped into Finn’s mouth as he felt that Finn was certainly just as excited as him, the unmistakable feel of their erections grinding together as Finn shifted his weight upon him.

Julian whined, _keened_ , pulling him ever closer as he thrust his slick tongue into his mouth, riding out the reflexive thrust of Finn’s hips. The headboard slammed into the wall as Finn’s fingers found their way beneath Julian’s shirt, pushing it up, up, _up_ as Julian squeezed his thighs around him, grinding up just about as hard and as desperately as he could manage.

Julian could _feel_ that heat through the inconvenient layers of clothing, and, _god_ , he wanted to touch him, to push those jeans down those hips and feel him, wrap his fingers around him, _anything_. He wanted it so much he was pretty sure he would explode.

Finn broke the kiss, pressing his forehead to Julian’s and gasping for air, his lips sinfully kiss-reddened and swollen. “Take your shirtoff.” 

Julian obliged, sitting forward, grey eyes locked with gold as he tugged the shirt over his head, carelessly discarding it. He felt suddenly self-conscious as Finn took him in, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips, fingers twitching.

“Can… can I touch you?” 

Julian exhaled sharply, nodding profusely. “Yes, god… _yes_.” 

Then, Finn’s hands were on him, tracing the arching wings of his hipbones, travelling up his stomach, fingertips mapping tight skin, eyes wide. “You’re beautiful,” Finn sighed, his hands coming to rest upon Julian’s broad shoulders. “Julian, I…” 

Julian closed his eyes as Finn leaned in again, cutting off his own words as he drew Julian’s lower lip between his teeth, quickly sucking away the sting of his bite. Julian groaned, unable to control the untamed buck of his hips, seeking that press of sweet friction once more. 

Finn pressed in gratefully, riding out the buck of his hips, the spark of their bare skin brushing together intoxicating. The bed creaked loudly, both of them panting as Finn pulled away slightly. “Wait,” he whispered, swallowing thickly, his voice a rough, _wrecked_ rasp. 

Julian was grateful for the break, pretty sure he was _this close_ to coming in his jeans if they carried on. 

He flushed at the thought, splaying his hand upon Finn’s chest, making sure he kept his distance for a second while he gathered his thoughts. “W-what?” 

“Are we, uh… where is this going?” Finn mumbled, looking vulnerable again, his eyes focused intently upon Julian’s face.  

Julian cleared his throat. “I don’t… where do _you_ want it to go? I mean… I’m enjoying it, so?” 

Finn laughed, breathy and relaxed, shaking his head. He tangled his fingers into Julian’s curls, leaning in to slick their tongues together in a gentle, but still burning hot, hot, _hot_ kiss. He pulled away, eyes closed, lips merely an inch apart. “I like you, Julian, and I don’t want to rush… this, whatever _this_ is.” 

Julian took a deep breath. “I like you too.” 

Finn smiled, devastatingly handsome, and sat back, legs crossed between Julian’s spread thighs. “I… uh, I’d like you to be my boyfriend. If that’s what you want? Because, it’s what _I_ want and… I like you, like I said. _Really_ like you.” 

Julian giggled, a ridiculous sound that he immediately regretted making the second it left his lips. He couldn’t help it, though, he was giddy, and this was a ridiculous situation. He had been _this close_ to coming in his jeans less than two minutes ago, and now, here he was, sat on his bed, shirtless, with a shirtless Finnegan Lightwood asking him to be his freaking  _boyfriend_. 

Finn quirked his eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. “Something funny about that?” 

Julian shook his head, still laughing, and reached to cup his palm around the curve of Finn’s skull. “I would be honored to be your boyfriend,” he said, pressing his lips to Finn’s, to his _boyfriend’s,_ with a smile. 


	76. Julian x m!Apprentice 38.

Julian felt a warm hand slide possessively over his bare waist, eager fingers twitching upon his skin. He smiled, the touch quietly lulling him from his sleep. 

Another hand began to make its way up his arm, over his shoulder, into his hair, fingers scratching lightly at his scalp.

“Good morning, handsome,” Finn whispered, his body tucked tight against Julian’s side. He was so deliciously warm, fitting so perfectly against him. 

Julian grumbled, selfishly pretending he was still in dreamland, knowing Finn would continue his feather-light touches to stir him.

He felt Finn smile against his skin, his lips ghosting just below his jaw before placing lazy open-mouthed kisses there. He kissed a trail down his throat, throwing a leg over his waist as he carefully straddled his hips. 

Julian couldn’t pretend he was asleep anymore, his hands unable to resist resting upon those thighs, feeling the muscles twitch beneath his palm as he shifted. 

Finn smiled down at him, looking like a bloody _god_ as the morning sun shined, a halo of light surrounding him. He brushed his fingertips over Julian’s lips, and Julian caught his hand, turning his face to gently kiss his palm, his wrist, feeling the steady thrum of his pulse against his lips. 

“Morning,” Julian smiled, lazy, _happy_.


	77. Julian x m!Apprentice 39.

“This is, _ahh_ … This is entirel— oh!” 

“Stop talking,” Finn murmured, splaying his cold hand upon Julian’s stomach and pushing him back against the wall. 

Julian’s eye rolled back in his head as that hot, talented mouth drew him back inside, his tongue circling the tip before he took him all the way down to the root. 

His hand hovered above Finn’s head, wanting so badly to tangle his fingers in those raven locks, to grab him, to…

Finn reached out and forced his hovering hand into his hair, looking up at him through those dark, long lashes. He groaned when Julian gently pushed his head forward, the noise reverberating through Julian’s body. 

He slammed his head back against the alley wall. “ _Fuck!_ ”

Finn pulled back, releasing him with a sinful _pop_ , gazing up with an even more sinful smile, his lips red, panting. “You taste so good,” he purred, gripping the base of Julian’s cock in his fist, pushing the flushed head back between his parted lips.

Julian’s knees went weak, so used to being the one inflicting the pleasure, he felt giddy with their roles reversed. 

That slick heat, the glide of his tongue, seeing Finn on his knees, slowly going down, down, lips parting to take him. 

Julian reached down, framing Finn’s sharp jaw with trembling fingers, watching in wonder as he kept going down, down, _down_ until his nose brushed against the clenched muscles of Julian’s stomach.

He came with an embarrassingly loud cry, spilling into Finn’s mouth as he gratefully swallowed every last drop. He continued to suck lightly, sending sparks shooting throughout Julian’s body until he was a whimpering, shaking mess. 

Finn released him, standing to crush their mouths together in a depraved kiss, Julian tasting himself on his tongue.


	78. Modern AU Update

I'm going to be posting my Modern AU Finn x Julian ficlets separately [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12812169/chapters/29247009) from now on! 


	79. Julian x m!Apprentice 40.

“Oh my god…” 

Finn chuckled, pinning Julian’s hips to the bed with a firm palm splayed upon his abdomen. “Patience, as they say, is a virtue.” 

Julian sighed, glaring at him. “Very well, continue.” 

Finn ran his hands up Julian’s side, his skin so wonderfully soft and smooth, his fingers ghosting over the perfect ridges of muscle, tracing the indents of his ribcage. Julian’s eye fell closed, the doctor  _finally_  relaxing as he accepted his fate.

Finn was straddling Julian’s waist, finally taking the time to really look at the man, to appreciate how  _beautiful_  he was. After everything, they finally had the luxury of time, of  _freedom_. 

He leaned in, pressing a kiss to his nose, a feature Julian always complained about. Finn loved it, from that perfectly imperfect bump in the ridge, to the pointed tip. He smiled, brushing a finger across the tops of his cheeks, counting every freckle. 

Julian crinkled his nose, his lips struggling to suppress a smile. “You are insufferable, do you know that?” 

Finn trailed his finger down his sharp cheekbone, down to the harsh cut of his jaw. “Mmhmm, I’m quite aware,” he sighed, continuing down Julian’s throat, his finger circling a fresh bruise that he had pressed there with his mouth last night, the curse finally lifted. His pale skin bruised so wonderfully, a swirling mix of purple and pink, yellowing at the edges. 

“I can feel that, it–  _ouch_!” 

Finn grinned, unable to resist the urge to press on the mark. “I cannot wait to give you more of these.” 

Julian shifted beneath him, his hands resting upon Finn’s thighs, thumbs rubbing soothing circles. “I thought this was strictly non-sexual? Have you succumbed so easily?” 

Finn shook his head, moving his hands down to rest upon Julian’s chest, fingers brushing through the smattering of red hair. “Nope, sorry.” He trailed down, down,  _down_  to the hard lines of his abdomen, tracing each prominent muscle, finding a few freckles along the way. 

Julian tensed under his touch, his hips attempting to rise, to seek some friction, but Finn’s weight held him firmly in place. “Such a shame, I’m really  _quite_ excited, you see…” 

“I  _can_  see that,” Finn smirked. He ran his finger along the waistband of Julian’s trousers, eyes tracing the thick outline of his erection, painfully obvious through the tight, black fabric. He swallowed, resisting the urge to touch, to  _grab,_ to give him exactly what he wanted. 

He took a deep breath, leaning forward, pressing his chest to Julian’s. He laced his fingers through that riot of curls, blunt nails gently scratching at his scalp. Julian hummed in response, tilting his head up, catching Finn’s gaze. 

Finn leaned in, his lips but a breath away. “You’re perfect,” he whispered, cupping his face and finally,  _finally_  pressing a kiss to his mouth. 

 

 


	80. Julian x m!Apprentice 41.

“Hey, you know you can talk to me, right?” Finn whispered, propping his chin on Julian’s chest and looking up at him with those big, golden eyes. He read him like a goddamn book, and it was frustrating. 

Julian reached down and brushed a stray lock of hair from his face, keeping his hand pressed to his cheek. “It’s nothing, please don’t worry yourself.” 

He was worried, so much so he felt sick. Laying beside Finn each night, unable to sleep only making matters worse as he stared at the amazing man who he’d come to love. He knew in his heart that this would end soon, one way or another. It was inevitable. 

Finn shook his head, grabbing Julian’s hand and pressing a kiss to the stark murderer’s mark burned into his skin. Julian flinched, gently tugging it from his grip. “Please, my love…” 

Finn, as bloody _stubborn_ as ever, sat up and threw a leg over his waist, covering him so that they were flush, chest-to-chest, the sheets pooling around his waist. “No, do not shut me out,” he huffed, leaning in to run his hand through Julian’s unkempt curls. “Let me make you feel better.” 

Julian was weak, forever unable to stand his ground and make Finn let him brood, wallow in his awful thoughts. His hands flew to grip Finn’s hips, gratefully rocking up to meet his write, the friction between them electric. He was irresistible.

A wolfish grin spread across Finn’s face as he pressed forward, littering Julian’s throat with quick kisses. He reached down, curling talented fingers around his now-hard cock and stroking. 

Julian bucked his hips, unable to control himself as he thrust up into his grip. He tried to touch Finn, but he simply swatted him away with a tut. “Ah, ah. This is about you, _only_ you. I want you to feel good.” 

He slid down Julian’s body, dragging blunt nails down his chest, his abdomen as he went. Julian hissed as Finn settled between his legs, his tongue laving around the flushed, _wet_ head before sinking down, taking him deep, _deeper_ into his mouth. 

Julian reached back, white-knuckling as he gripped the headboard. Finn moaned against him, swallowing him all, right down to the root. 

He was an expert in distraction, and Julian had never been more grateful as stars burst behind his eyelids, his worries long-lost thanks to that hot, talented mouth. 

Finn greedily swallowed everything Julian gave him, releasing him with a wet, depraved, _delicious_ sound. All the tension in his body had dissolved, leaving nothing but clarity in its wake.

Finn climbed back up his body, leaving a trail of kisses. He laced his fingers into red hair once again, scratching his scalp lightly and tilting his head back. Their lips met in a crushing, sticky kiss. 

Julian slept well that night.


	81. Julian x m!Apprentice 42.

They lay on the bed, bare skin pressed close, limbs entwined and fingers tangled in messy hair. Finn smiled against Julian’s mouth, a quick break for air before surging back in for another passionate kiss. 

Moments like this were what Julian lived for, _craved_. He cupped his hand around Finn’s jaw, pulling away to stare into those golden eyes. Gods, he loved him so much it was maddening, _consuming._

Finn smiled, his eyes searching Julian’s face, clearly trying to figure out what he was thinking. He turned his face, pressing a kiss to Julian’s palm. “What is it?” 

Julian swallowed, only one thought racing through his mind as he felt Finn’s body surge closer. “Hear me out?”

Finn narrowed his eyes, his brow furrowed in question. “Go on…”

Julian bit his lip, suddenly feeling overwhelmingly stupid. “Uh, I… it’s nothing,” he sighed, leaning in for another kiss, an attempt to distract. 

Finn pulled away, tutting. “Ah, ah. It’s clearly something, tell me.” 

Julian groaned, falling back onto his pillow, his arm dramatically draped over his forehead. He closed his eyes, feeling that all-too-familiar heat creeping into his cheeks. He cleared his throat. “I-I would like… I mean, if _you_ would. Uh… Finn…”

Finn rolled his eyes, grinning as he moved to straddle his waist, tugging his arm away and leaning in, their noses brushing. “Julian!” He chided, grabbing his chin. “Say it!” 

“ _Iwouldverymuchliketofuckyou_ ,” he mumbled, almost too fast, but definitely not fast enough for the clever magician to miss. His cheeks _burned_ and he pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, trying to hide himself. 

Finn’s hand dropped from his arm, and he went silent. Julian propped himself up on his elbows, staring at the suddenly-stoic man. _Fuck_ , was he… was he _blushing?_. “Finn?”

Finn’s chest heaved, his breaths unsteady. He was hard, getting harder, his eyes hooded. “Uhm, fuck… Julian. I wasn’t uh, wasn’t expecting that,” he laughed, almost vulnerable, shy. 

Julian sat up, wrapping his arms around Finn’s waist, seeing the chance and taking it. Finn was usually unselfconsciously sexual, confident, and now… _now_ he was a flustered mess.

Julian grinned, lifting him and pressing him down against the mattress, spreading his thighs with an eager hand. “So, do you want to?” He whispered, pressing a trail of kisses from the sharp line of his jaw, down his throat, to his clavicle. 

Finn arched up, rocking their hips together, _whimpering_. “Y-yes, _God’s_ yes.” 

Julian made quick work of readying him, hiding his nerves and staying in the moment, seizing the opportunity as he pumped two slick digits in and out, in and out. Finn writhed helplessly, shaking fingers grasping at Julian’s broad shoulders, _clawing_ for something to hold on to. 

Julian curled his fingers and Finn lost it, biting his lip as Julian found that sweet spot. Julian was so excited he could barely think, knowing how good it felt when Finn was inside him, how he made him lose his goddamn mind. He could wait no longer. 

He removed his fingers, placing himself between Finn’s parted thighs, stroking himself and coating his cock in leftover slick. He hissed, already too worked up, trying so fucking hard to keep his cool as he placed himself at Finn’s entrance. 

Their eyes locked as he surged forward, Julian’s rolling back in his head, his teeth grinding as the white hot pleasure/pain engulfed him. He placed a hand on Finn’s hips, stilling as he caught his breath, a shuddering string of curses falling from his lips.

Finn was no different, a writhing mess beneath him as he clawed at Julian’s arms, seeking anything to grab onto. “Fuck, _fuck_ Julian.”

Julian nodded, agreeing with the incoherent sentence. He took a deep breath, pushing away that coil threatening to unfurl in the pit of his stomach, and began to move. 

Each thrust was like an awakening, sparks flowing through him, flooding his veins. How Finn did this all the time without going insane he’d never know, the pleasure on another level. Finn grabbed at him, pulling him down until he was flush against his chest. 

Their lips met in a crushing, needy kiss, tongues slick as they swallowed each other’s keening moans. Finn tangled his fingers into Julian’s hair, his grip tightening with each thrust of his hips.

They broke the kiss, foreheads resting together. “I’m not going to last much longer,” Julian mumbled. “Too… too good.” 

Finn chuckled, a broken sound. “Now you know how I feel.”

Julian laughed, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You too. Now… touch yourself.”

Finn obliged, his hand reaching between them to curl around his cock, trembling to stroke in time with Julian’s thrusts. He twitched, back arching off the bed and affording Julian a delightful new angle. 

Julian bit down lightly on Finn’s earlobe, the contact sending him over the edge. Finn came quickly, spilling out onto his stomach with a cry, his legs tightening around Julian’s waist. Julian felt him clench around him. 

He was a deadman. 

His hips stuttered in their final thrusts, his head dropping to Finn’s shoulder as he finished inside him, Finn running his fingers down his spine, tracing soothing lines as he finally stilled, his breathing slowly returning to normal. 

They lay silent for a moment, Finn’s arms wrapped around him. “Holy… _wow_ ,” Finn laughed, still catching his breath. “That was…”

“Mind blowing? Life changing? Heart attack inducing?” 

Finn grinned. “All of the above.”


	82. Julian x m!Apprentice 43.

Clover placed their drinks on the table, her lips curving into a smile as she collected their empties. She tutted. “You two are lovely together. I’m glad Doctor Jules has someone who makes him happy. It’s about bloody time,” she winked, turning and leaving with a whoosh of her skirt.

Finn leaned in, placing his chin upon Julian’s shoulder and gazing up at him. “Doctor _Jules_ ,” he laughed, earning a prod in the ribs from said Doctor. 

“Funny,” Julian sighed, shaking his head and bringing the ale to his lips. 

Finn watched his throat bob and sat up straight, still pressed close against Julian, then placed his hand on his thigh, squeezing once.   


Julian looked down into his tankard, a smile twitching at the corner of his mouth. “What are yo–” 

Finn  leaned in, catching the words before they could escape, his tongue stroking deep into Julian’s mouth. Julian reached up to dig long fingers into raven hair, responding in kind to the kiss. It was deep, desperate, _hot_. 

Julian pulled away, a low whine deep in his throat as Finn’s hand traced the outline of his erection through the thin fabric of his trousers, deft fingers making quick work to undo the button, then the zip. His grip tightened in Finn’s hair, his thumb brushing the skin at the nape of his neck, causing him to shiver in response. 

Finn’s golden eyes sparkled with mischief in the dim candlelight as he watched Julian pull his bottom lip between his teeth. A beautiful flush swirled across pale cheeks, spreading to the tips of his ears as Finn freed him from his trousers, fingers curled _tight_ around him. 

The _noise_ Julian made was enough to unmake him, the hungry thrust of his hips and the gentle-yet-desperate way he dug his fingers into his neck made him smirk as he languidly stroked his cock. His expression was perfection, pure, unadulterated _bliss_ that made Finn want to drag himself into his lap, to _cover_ him and make him see stars.   


“You know you can’t come like this, here, with everyone watching,” Finn whispered, his tongue flicking out to caress Julian’s earlobe.  


Julian closed his eye _tight_ , shaking his head slowly. “I want to… I-I’m _going_ to if you carry on.” 

Finn studied him, he was panting, _hot_ , dark lashes flickering atop flushed cheeks, plump lips parted. He was close, so _fucking_ close and Finn could read him like a book. 

He quickly removed his hand, Julian snapping out of his trance, chest heaving. He fumbled to tuck himself back in his trousers, hissing as he touched his cock, stilling as if that simple touch could unmake him. It probably could. 

He took a deep breath, clutching the tankard and bringing it to his lips, downing the drink in one gulp. He slammed it to the table and turned to Finn with a snarl. “Take me home and finish what you started, _now_.” 

Finn grinned, wide and devilish, nodding in agreement.


	83. Julian x m!Apprentice 44.

A continuation of the previous chapter...

_______

They had barely made it past the first side street before Julian had caught him at the waist and had him pressed _hard_ against the wall, Finn laughing breathlessly before they lost themselves in a crushing kiss. 

Julian dug his fingers into raven hair, arching gratefully into Finn, pressing him back into the uneven, sharp stone. He was dizzy with want, _needing_ that release that Finn had begun to tease from him.   


He pressed into all that lithe, _tight_ muscle, Finn’s grip on his waist tightening, hips desperately seeking friction, letting Julian drive him back against the wall. “ _Fuck_ , Julian. I… I like this side of you. Please…” 

Julian growled, unapologetically hard and _desperate_ , but at the same time wanting Finn to feel what he felt, wanting to bring him to the brink then take it all away.   


He caught Finn’s bottom lip between his teeth and tugged, pulling a low, rumbling moan from deep in his chest. He grabbed his wrists, stopping him from touching him, _possessive_ as he dug his thumbs into his racing pulse points. “I’ve learnt from the best.”   


Julian tugged at him, switching places so he was now the one pressed against the biting stone. He placed a finger beneath Finn’s chin and tilted his face, leaning in so close he could smell the sweet ale on his breath. “Get on your knees.” 

Finn smirked, devastatingly handsome and surprised and _willing_ as he obliged, dragging his hands down Julian’s chest as he dropped, his face level with the increasingly hard bulge in the front of his trousers. He looked up, golden eyes shining in the dark as he slid his hand between Julian’s thighs, cupping his erection, rubbing _hard_.

A string of mumbled curses fell from Julian’s lips as his hips jerked into his touch, his thighs parting in shameless welcome. Finn scraped blunt nails along the straining material, then made work once more of undoing his trousers, freeing him. 

The hot brand of Finn’s mouth was maddening as he flicked his tongue out, swirling around the flushed tip before taking him all in, right down to the root in one, quick glide. It felt _incredible,_ enough to make Julian lose his breath, to lose his goddamn mind. He reached down and grabbed a handful of raven hair, his head falling back against the stone. “Fuck… you feel _so good_.”   


Finn groaned _low_ in his throat, the sound shaking Julian to the core. He lifted a hand to curl around the base of Julian’s cock, stroking fast as he sucked the tip, teasing and laving his tongue before dropping, taking _all of him_ with an easy glide. 

Julian cried out, feeling that tightness, that _burn_ low in his abdomen. He covered his mouth with his hand, realizing they were very much in the open, very much exposed. He bit into the meat of his palm as that tight, _hot_ heat of Finn’s mouth made him choke, made him fall apart. He exploded into what felt like thousands of tiny pieces, Finn’s mouth tight and persistent around him as he came, gratefully swallowing every last drop. 

His knees buckled, his fingers scrambling at the stone for some purchase as Finn released him with an obscene, wet _pop,_ licking his lips with a satisfied grin. He rose, pressing their bodies together, his face close, so _close_. “Next time you want to be in charge, I’m game,” he grinned, catching his lips in a depraved kiss. 

Julian could taste himself on his tongue, mingled with that sweet taste of _Finn_ and ale. He laughed, breathless as Finn grabbed his hand, pressing it against his own erection and hissing through clenched teeth as Julian squeezed it. “Let’s go home.” 


	84. Julian x m!Apprentice 45.

One of the many interesting things Julian had learned about Finn was that he liked danger. Maybe a little _too_ much, in fact. In this moment, however, he couldn’t find the time to complain. 

They lay in the tiny bed, Finn pressed _close_ against his back, greedy hands roaming sweat-soaked skin as he peeled away Julian’s shirt. 

It had been too close for comfort tonight, the guards almost catching a glimpse of Finn as they fled. Julian was still trying to catch his breath as Finn placed open-mouthed kisses upon his shoulder. “They almost _saw_ you. It’s a death sentence to be seen with me, you know this.” 

Finn’s hand came around his waist, dipping into his undone trousers and tugging them down. Julian’s traitor body couldn’t resist him, his _touch_ , and he felt himself getting hard, as much as he tried to will it away. 

The mattress dipped behind him as Finn reached over to grab something from his discarded trousers, swiftly returning and lacing a hand into his hair. “Just relax, everything is fine,” he whispered, his breath warm and sweet upon Julian’s neck. 

Julian’s eye rolled back in his head as Finn pressed a conveniently slick digit at his entrance, his other hand tugging his head back, allowing easier access for his mouth to lightly nip at his throat. Julian pressed back into his hand, a guttural groan falling from his lips as Finn curled his finger, beckoning. 

All the worry washed away as Finn entered him, their bodies flush, as close as close can be as he lazily thrust into him. He was _everywhere,_ and Julian was close to forgetting his own name. Finn picked up his pace, groaning loudly in his ear. The old bed creaked beneath them, then, the sound of a door clicking shut. 

Finn pulled back, slamming into Julian with fervor, eliciting a too-loud whimper from him. Finn laughed, pulling his earlobe between his teeth. “ _Hush_ now, Mazelinka’s home. You wouldn’t want her to hear, would you?” 

Julian turned, biting the pillow as Finn continued his relentless pace. “Y-you are, uh,  _evil_ …” 

Finn’s hands roamed the hard plains of his back, trailing lightly down his sides, his hips, before finally reaching around and fisting his erection, stroking slowly from base to tip. It didn’t take Julian long to come, Finn following him in an instant as he clenched around him. 

“Tell me you don’t like it,” Finn purred, panting as he tried to catch his breath, grabbing Julian’s chin and tilting his head for a hungry kiss.   


Julian smiled against his mouth, twisting his body so that they faced one another. He placed his hands either side of Finn’s face, pulling away to stare in those glistening golden eyes. “Never.” 


	85. Julian x Asra x m!Apprentice 3.

Part one of two.   
_____ 

Julian walked into the kitchen in the middle of the night and immediately bumped into Asra. He rubbed his shoulder, looking down at the witch. “Uh… hi.” 

Asra smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. 

A pair of arms wrapped around Julian’s waist, enthusiastic hands immediately working their way down the front of his briefs. Finn pressed himself tight against his back, placing kisses upon his bare skin. “Come back to bed.”

Julian stiffened, grabbing Finn’s wrist and twisting so he could see that they had company. 

“Oh, I-I’m sorry,” Finn mumbled, covering his quite-obvious erection by shoving his hands in front of his pyjama bottoms. 

Asra looked down, white lashes kissing the top of tawny cheeks. His tongue flicked out to wet his bottom lip, his voice husky when he finally spoke. “Please don’t apologise. I quite enjoy seeing you two this… happy,” he smiled.

Julian almost felt bad for him, he _had_ loved him once, a long time ago. He was kind, beautiful, and not unlike Finn in a lot of ways. He glanced at Finn, who looked like he was having the same sympathetic thoughts. Finn caught his eye, something passing between them. 

Finn cleared his throat. “We… we should talk?” 

Asra looked perplexed, bright violet eyes flitting between them. Finn stepped forward and grabbed his hand, running his thumb along the soft skin, pressing it against his racing pulse. “Asra…” 

Julian turned, walking back upstairs, Finn and Asra following him. 

They sat on the bed, Asra pressed between them both, three sets of knees knocking. Asra looked beautiful, more vulnerable than he could ever remember as he placed a tentative hand in Julian’s, bringing it to his mouth and pressing a kiss to his palm. “Ilya, I… I’m sorry for how things ended between us. You meant a great deal to me, I want you to know th-“

Julian silenced him with a kiss, Finn’s hand in his hair, encouraging him, pressing closer and placing a trail of open-mouthed kisses upon Asra’s bare shoulder. 

Asra broke the kiss, turning to face Finn, his hand still holding Julian’s. “I don’t understand.” 

Finn pressed a finger to Asra’s full lips. “Just for tonight.” 

He nodded, transfixed as Julian’s hand made its way up his thigh, Finn’s mirroring him on the other side. “Just for tonight.”


	86. Julian x Asra x m!Apprentice 4.

Part two of two

* * *

 

Asra allowed himself to be pressed down onto the mattress, two sets of hands warm upon his bare skin.

  
He was overwhelmed, usually so sure of himself in the bedroom, but this… _this_ was different.

  
He remembered both of their touches fondly, both so different, yet so cherished. Now, everything had changed, and he found his breath catching in his throat, memories from two long-lost relationships flooding his mind.

  
Julian’s fingers brushed Finn’s upon his chest, their gaze fixed on one another. They leaned over him, mouths meeting in a kiss before they turned their attention back to him.

  
Julian’s lips found him first, pressed against his throat, trailing up his jaw, then finally his mouth. He groaned as Asra slicked their tongues together, as if he were remembering too, remembering all the passion they’d shared, or possibly even the way Asra had broken his heart.

  
“Ilya,” he whispered, his fingers grasping at those red curls, gentle, yet desperate, desperate to convey that he was sorry, that he had to do what he did.

  
Finn placed a hand upon Julian’s shoulder, a reassuring gesture, before he reached down to make quick work of the drawstring of Asra’s trousers, tugging the waistband down, freeing his erection and palming it greedily.

  
His touch was electric, painful, almost. Asra knew Finn had little recollection of their true relationship, but, in this moment, he swore Finn’s body remembered _everything_.

  
The way he moved, the way he touched him, the way his mouth twitched at the corners as he concentrated, the way those golden eyes glistened.

  
Asra arched up into his touch, a helpless whimper falling from parted lips as Finn stroked him, expert with his rythym. Asra reached over, tugging Julian’s hips closer, his hand dipping into his briefs, fingers tracing the lines of his painfully hard cock, thumb circling the flushed, wet head.

  
Julian groaned, a deep, guttural sound. Asra always relished in how responsive Julian was, his face always betraying his every emotion, his body tense, twitching as Asra bent down, taking him in his mouth, his violet eyes firmly fixed on Julian’s face.

  
Julian shuddered, those long fingers winding their way into soft, white hair. He looked at Finn, reaching for him, their fingers locking upon Asra’s stomach.   
It didn’t take Asra long to fall apart, finishing in Finn’s hand with a whimper, a shiver.

  
Finn smiled lazily, crawling up Asra’s body to tuck himself against his side, his fingers tracing circles upon his chest as Julian came undone, spilling into Asra’s mouth, his body shuddering in messy waves as his orgasm took hold.

  
Julian collapsed next to him, draping an arm over his chest, his hand resting upon Finn’s bicep. Asra smiled, content, sated as he lay pressed so comfortably between them, feeling complete for the first time in a long time.

  
Julian and Finn loved each other, irrevocably. If he got to be a part of that, just for a little while, he was the happiest man on this planet.


	87. Julian x m!Apprentice 46.

A tap at the window startled Finn from his studies, pulling him from the bed. His eyes grew wide as he saw the hunched-over figure looming outside the glass, perched precariously on the balcony. 

“ _Julian?!_ ” He hissed, scrambling to unlock the doors and stepping aside as Julian fell, quite ungracefully, into the room. 

He stood, brushing down his coat and flicking messy curls from his face. “Hello,” he grinned, breathless, and entirely too pleased with himself.

Finn scowled, resisting the urge to leap into his arms like some lovelorn damsel. Instead, he rushed to the door, placing a silencing ward over it and ensuring it was locked… twice. 

He ushered Julian to the bed, sitting him on the mattress. “Julian, as wonderful as it is to see you, you know how dangerous this is, right?” 

Julian sighed heavily, instantly making him feel guilty. He reached out and pulled at Finn’s hand, urging him to sit. He twisted a leg under himself as he turned to face him, cupping his face with long, gloved fingers. “I couldn’t bear to be without you for another night. If she’s going to keep you here then… then I have no choice.”

Finn leaned into his touch, the warm leather familiar, grounding. He shook himself from his trance, grabbing Julian’s hand and holding it in his lap. “No, you cannot be here. It’s not worth risking—“

“ _You_ are worth the risk, my love,” Julian interrupted, his eye glassy, rimmed red. He leaned forward, pressing their foreheads together and taking a deep, shuddering breath. “If I die tonight, I want it to be by your side.” 

Finn’s breath hitched, and he brought their lips together in a tender caress. Then, he laughed, unable to prevent the sound from bubbling up and escaping. Julian pulled away, looking confused, his eyebrows raised in question. 

Finn took one look at his expression and smiled, pulling him in for another kiss, less gentle this time. “You are ridiculous, and _infuriatingly_ overdramatic, but… I love you.” 

Julian relaxed, his breathing heavy from the kiss. “So… I can stay?” 

Finn narrowed his eyes as Julian’s hand ran up his thigh, the rasp of leather on denim sending a spark straight to his core. He bit his lip as Julian squeezed, his hand coming to rest on his hip. 

“You can stay, but _no_ funny business. The walls in this place have ears, it would appear.” 

Julian laughed, a shit-eating grin spreading across his handsome face. “Now _that_ I cannot promise.”


	88. Julian x m!Apprentice 47.

A continuation of the previous chapter.

* * *

 

Julian studied Finn’s chambers as he triple-checked his wards, running a finger along the bookshelf and tutting at the dust-covered digit. “Tsk, Nadia has let things go around here, it would appear.”

Finn ignored him, his hands glowing as he ran them over the door, the walls.

Julian grinned, taking the chance to remove his gloves, boots, coat. He lay on the bed, head propped up on his hand, legs splayed invitingly. It wouldn’t hurt to undo a few more shirt buttons…

Finn finally turned around, sighing heavily, but unable to prevent the smile that twitched at his lips as he laid eyes upon Julian. He pointed at him. “Infuriating.”

Julian waggled his eyebrows playfully. “And yet you love me still. What does that say about you?” He reached out, offering his hand. Finn took it and fell to the mattress beside him. He smelt like fresh air, clean, _perfect_.

“Gods, I missed you. It’s not fair,” Julian groaned, his face nuzzled into Finn’s neck, lips pressing light kisses to his warm skin. “I couldn’t stay away another moment.”

Finn hummed gratefully, his fingers tangling into Julian’s hair and tugging lightly. He began to push Julian’s shirt from his shoulders, his hands mapping his broad chest, travelling down, down, _down_ until he reached the waistband of his trousers.

Julian arched up into his touch, already achingly hard for him, his cock straining against the fabric. He hissed as Finn’s fingers gently traced him, before palming at him greedily.

Finn moved quickly, grabbing his trousers and tugging them over his hips, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips as Julian’s erection sprang free. He swiftly covered him, taking all of him into his mouth. Julian cried out and Finn reached up, cupping his hand over his mouth.

Julian grabbed a fistful of raven hair, scratching Finn’s scalp with blunt nails. “Please, I need you… _now_.”

Finn smiled, his face pressed against his inner thigh as he released him from his mouth. “So impatient,” he purred, reaching down to fumble in his bag for a jar of slick.

He placed it on the bed, deft fingers undoing his shirt, followed by his trousers. He poured a generous amount onto his fingers, watching intently as Julian parted his legs around him. He circled his entrance, teasing, before pressing a digit inside, followed by another.

Julian’s breath caught in his throat, a strangled whimper escaping as Finn stretched him. He needed this, needed _him_ like he needed air. “ _Please_ ,” he whispered, reaching out to grab Finn’s wrist.

Finn bit his bottom lip as he removed his fingers, curling them around himself and stroking, coating his length in the leftover slick. Julian watched his head fall back, his lips parting. He was exquisite.

Finn loomed over him, pressing the tip against Julian’s entrance and catching his lips in a kiss as he pushed forward slowly. He swallowed Julian’s moans gratefully, his hand cupping his jaw, thumb stroking soothing circles there.

He began to move, to find a rhythm, and it took everything Julian had not to cry out, to bloody _scream_ from the white-hot pleasure that flowed through him. Each thrust of Finn’s hips was electric, the hungry press of their lips the only thing stopping him from alerting the whole palace.

He reached down, fisting his own cock and stroking, squeezing the base as he got too close, too quick.

“Julian,” Finn whispered, his voice a wrecked, broken thing. “We could get caught, you realise,” he panted, a smirk playing at his lips.

Julian grinned, quirking a brow. “That… that excites you, doesn’t it?”

Finn whimpered, thrusting _hard_ , his pace relentless. “Maybe, but you need to come for me… _now_.”

Julian never was one to disobey orders, especially when Finn asked so nicely.

He pumped his cock once, twice, his abdomen tense as he came undone, spilling out onto his stomach with a cry. Finn groaned as he felt him tighten around him, quickly following him, his hips stuttering out their final, desperate thrusts.

He collapsed on top of Julian, his face buried into his sweat-slicked clavicle. Julian lightly ran his fingers up and down his spine, chuckling as he shuddered above him. “Mmmm, worth the risk?”

Finn bit down on his skin, before kissing away the sting. “You could say that.”

It wasn’t long until Finn had drifted into a deep sleep, still splayed on top of him, a sweaty, sticky mess. Julian embraced him, his arms holding him close, feeling his warm breath against his skin.

He was home.


	89. Julian x m!Apprentice 48.

They’d barely made it through the doorway before Julian’s trousers were pooling around his ankles, fingertips desperately clutching at the edge of the glass counter, white-knuckling as he struggled to steady himself. 

Finn was buried deep, the relentless, _delicious_ slap of flesh on flesh echoing throughout the dark shop. He reached out, trailing a fingertip down Julian’s arched spine, coming to a stop at the perfectly formed dimples at the base. 

He was transfixed, enchanted by the shift of muscle beneath pale, sweat-slicked skin, by the desperate buck of his hips driving back if he pulled away for just a second too long. He smiled, his fingers trailing back up, twisting and tugging at chaotic red curls. 

Julian whimpered, turning to look over his shoulder, grey eye wild, bottom lip pulled between his teeth, red-raw where he’d been biting it. His face always betrayed him, and right now he was begging, _pleading_ for more, more, more without even saying a word.

Finn wrapped an arm around his waist, tugging him up and flush back against him. He wanted to claim him, scraping his teeth against his broad shoulder, a hand splayed flat against his chest as he continued to move against him, _inside_ him. 

Julian responded so beautifully to the simplest of touches, the curl of Finn’s fingers around him, causing him to buck into his grip helplessly, desperate cries escaping parted lips. 

_Mine, mine mine._

Pleasure rushed through Finn’s veins like quicksilver, swirling in the pit of his stomach as he picked up his already punishing pace. 

“ _More_ ,” Julian gasped, a desperate, broken murmur. Finn smirked, his hand moving faster, harder, coaxing Julian’s orgasm out of him with deadly precision. 

Finn felt him spill out, beautifully warm over his fingers. He pushed him forward again, Julian’s chest pressed against the cold glass surface. 

Finn’s legs shook, strained, the aftershocks of Julian’s orgasm rippling through him as he shuddered beneath him, _around_ him. 

He made a low, desperate noise as Julian whispered his name, colours flaring bright behind his eyelids as he came, intense, a rush of pleasure as if it were the very first time.   
  
After a moment to allow him to catch his breath, Julian turned and wrapped his arms around him, their mouths crashing together, a certain languid, _beautiful_ desperation between them. 

Julian grinned against his lips, humming, content. “Take me to bed.”


	90. Asra x Julian 7.

Everything that happens here is 100% consensual… just FYI.  
_______

Julian couldn’t _breathe_. 

It wasn’t because of the violent thickness of the air that pressed down on him like a tidal wave, _drowning_ him, no, it was those violet eyes, the warm skin, that smile…

Asra planted a firm hand on his chest, pushing him back against the wall with a thud. His legs were shaking, weak, barely holding him up. He clawed at the wall as Asra’s lips met his throat, his kisses burning like fire through the haze. 

_Ilya._

His name, sounding like a song as it floated around him, blood rushing to his ears, heart clamouring for escape inside his ribcage. 

His palm stung, the cut trailing through his lifeline still fresh, the pain a welcome reprieve from whatever _this_ was. It tugged at him, pulled him from the brink and back to Asra. 

The witch was smiling, a wolfish grin on those perfect lips as he undid Julian’s shirt with deft fingers. 

He felt a rush of cold air, swiftly followed by the press of bare, _warm_ flesh. He smiled, hummed as Asra’s lips met his, his hand shaking, reaching up to grab at white hair. 

“Ah, ah, no touching,” Asra purred, grabbing his wrist and slamming it against the wall, holding it _tight_ above his head, so tight his pulse protested against his fingertips. 

Julian’s eyes rolled back in his head as Asra sank his teeth into his neck. Nip, suck, lick, repeat. 

“You said I can take anything, Ilya. Do you truly mean it?” 

His vision blurred, Asra’s words dreamlike, faltering. He nodded, a smirk twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Yes, take it. Take it all.” 

Hands grabbed at him, guided him. When he opened his eyes he could breathe again, only a slight struggle now to fill his lungs as he focused on what was in front of him. 

It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, ever _would_ see. 

Asra above him, around him, _inside_ him. 

Everywhere. 

Julian’s hands gripped at Asra’s trim hips as he moved against him, fingertips bruising, marking. Julian gazed up at him with such naked adoration, baring himself to him, everything he was feeling written on his face. Enchanted. 

Asra smiled, his finger pressing against Julian’s bottom lip, pulling it down before leaning in and tugging it between his teeth, hard enough to draw blood. 

Julian bucked his hips as Asra licked deep into his mouth, eliciting a noise akin to a whimper as Asra moved within him, slick and hot and _perfect._

Asra grabbed his hands, removing them from his waist and placing them above his head, invisible restraints locking around his wrists. Julian struggled against them for a second, before relaxing, submitting. 

Asra smiled, tugging _hard_ at red curls. “Good boy,” he snarled, his lip curled, baring his teeth. 

Julian hissed as Asra ran his hand down his chest, his fingertips leaving vivid red scorch marks in their wake, marring his pale skin. Asra grabbed at his thighs, holding them tight against him as he continued his relentless, punishing thrusts. 

Julian began to falter, to see stars, that heavy energy bearing down on him once more. He looked up to see Asra grinning, his palm glowing, fingers twitching as the energy hummed, _vibrated._

“W-what are you doing?” Julian whimpered, white-hot pleasure unfurling in the pit of his stomach. “ _Please…_.”

Asra nodded, grabbing his chin roughly, tilting his head back. “Yes, Ilya, beg… _beg_ for it and I’ll show you mercy.” 

Julian gasped, feeling himself begin to come undone, Asra’s magic relentless as it curled around him until everything went black, and all he could feel was…

When he opened his eyes, his chest was heaving, _aching_ with every laboured breath. He felt warm arms pulling him close, fingers rubbing soothing circles on sweat-slicked skin, full lips pressing gently to his jaw. 

“Asra…”

Asra hummed in response, curling himself around him even tighter, violet eyes gazing up to meet his grey. “You’re amazing, Ilya.”

Julian swallowed thickly, testing to see if his limbs worked as he pressed a hand to Asra’s back, just checking he was real. “I-I’ve never felt anything like… like _that_ ,” he whispered, his voice wrecked. 

He felt Asra smile against his skin. “You deserve it, after what you’ve given me tonight.” 

Julian didn’t know what he meant, didn’t _want_ to know. 

All he knew was that, in this moment, Asra was his, and he’d do anything to feel like this.


	91. Julian 1.

Just something I couldn’t get out of my head.   
Julian on the run from the palace after he escaped.  
__________

  
Julian has most definitely run for his life before, colourful memories of angry pirates and deadly mercenaries stuck in the back of his mind, but this, _this_ was different.

  
This wasn’t exciting, or even remotely adventurous. This was him running _afraid_ for his life.

  
He turned the corner, pressing himself against the cold, stone wall as the guards passed him by in a flurry of clanking armour. He caught his breath for a moment, sweat dripping at his brow, hands shaking.

  
He knew these streets better than anyone, and had found himself opposite a familiar dwelling, as if by magic. The soft orange glow of candlelight poured out onto the street from curtainless windows.

  
He had questions, needed answers.   
He took a tentative step forward, peeking to see if the coast was clear, before making a break for it. He pressed his nose against the window and his heart clenched at the sight he saw. Asra, haphazardly stuffing his belongings into a bag, tears streaking tawny cheeks.

  
Julian remembered little, his mind covered in a hazy fog, suffocating certain memories. Though, the sight of Asra in pain pulled at him, eased his anger for a moment, replaced it with something that felt a lot like love.

  
He turned away, banging his head against the brick. Not tonight. One day, but _not_ tonight.

  
He clenched and unclenched his fists, the leather of his gloves rubbing against clammy skin. He had only one choice, and he’d have to pray that they still trusted him through all of the lies that the palace had inevitably spread about him.

  
When he finally arrived at the tiny hut he smiled, the smell of cooking wafting out through the open window. He climbed up onto the sil, bending awkwardly to throw long legs inside. He landed with a thud, the tiny old woman not even flinching at the sound where she was hunched over the pot at the fire.

  
She sighed, shaking her head. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

  
Julian stood and brushed the dust from his coat, removing his gloves and setting them aside. He walked over to stand beside her, raising his hands over the flame to warm them, the stark, black murderers brand unmissable.

  
Mazelinka glanced at it, then up at him. She clicked her tongue, tutting loudly. “What a thing to do to an innocent man.”

  
Julian frowned, glancing down at her. “How do you know I didn’t do it.”

  
She laughed, her shoulders shaking. She carefully poured the contents of the pot into two bowls, handing him one. “Eat, then get some rest.”

  
He blinked at her, suddenly too in-shock to argue, the gravity of his situation coming down on him like a ton of bricks.

  
He sat on the ground, scooping mouthfuls of the stew into his mouth, only now realising how starving he truly was. Mazelinka watched him from her chair, squinting as he looked up at her.

  
His eye. He’d forgotten in all the commotion. He must look like the monster they’ve branded him to be. He quickly looked down, red curls falling in a curtain around his face, hiding the ghastly red sclera from her view.

  
She stood, bones creaking as she heaved herself up and reached for his bowl. She grabbed his chin between wrinkled fingers, tilting his head up. “You take the bed.”

  
When he woke in the morning, still exhausted from a night of fitful nightmares, there was a parcel on the pillow beside him, messily wrapped in brown paper. A note attached with string read;

  
_I know you. That’s how._

  
He closed his eyes, stuffing the note into his pocket. He tugged at the paper, laughing as he spotted the black leather eyepatch. He walked to the tiny mirror above the washbasin, fiddling with the ties until it fit perfectly around his head. He ran his hands through his hair, staring himself down as he adjusted to seeing with just one eye.

  
When he was fully dressed he stood perched on the table, ready to leap out of the window, pondering where he would go, what he would do.

  
Answers. He needed answers. If it took months, years, he would get them, and nothing would get in his way.


	92. Julian x m!Apprentice 49. (W/ Portia)

“So, you and Ilya, huh?” 

Finn looked up from the pot, eyes wide and mouth agape. “Uhhh, what?”

Portia rolled her big blue eyes. “I _saw_ you kissing. I mean, I already knew that you care for him but…” she sighed heavily, wringing her hands, a habit that must run in the family. “I just need to know that you won’t hurt him, okay? He’s complicated, and… just don’t _hurt_ him.”

Finn took a deep breath, placing the wooden spoon on the countertop and securing the lid on the simmering soup. He pulled up a stool, taking a seat beside her at the table. “Portia, the last thing I would ever want to do is hurt Ju… your brother.” 

She looked unconvinced, glancing out at the red haired figure that sat under the stars on her porch. She looked sad, painfully so, her eyes filling up with tears. Her lip quivered as she turned her gaze back to him. She looked down at her hands and laughed, a nervous sound. 

Finn leaned forward and grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together and squeezing. “Hey,” he whispered, tilting his head to catch her gaze. “ _Hey_ , I would never hurt him. I swear on my life.”

She looked up, tears streaming down freckled cheeks. She sniffled loudly. “I believe you, Finn.”

Finn smiled. “You know, he’s pretty amazing. I’m uh… kind of crazy in love with him.” 

Her eyes grew comically wide as she swiped away her tears. “You are?” 

He sighed, twisting his lips into a smirk. “I am.”

“Oh!” She laughed, breathy and beautiful. “Can I ask… _why?_ ”

Finn snorted, his eyebrows raised in question, shoulders shaking as she scrambled, obviously realising how awful that sounded.

“Uh! I mean… I haven’t seen him in _years_ , I feel like I don’t know him anymore, in a way. Tell me… why do you love him?” 

Finn sat back in the chair, releasing her hand and running his fingers through his hair, feeling like he was being asked what the meaning of life was. How do you sum something like that up with something as simple as words? 

Then, he smiled, thinking back to lazy mornings in warm, tangled sheets, an arm draped over his chest. Portia smiled with him, her tears subsiding as she leaned forward in her chair.

“He’s funny, but he doesn’t mean to be it just… happens. He unabashedly throws everything he has into anything he does, even if it’s something stupid and simple like making me tea, it has to be perfect or it kills him,” he chuckled, registering Portia’s enthusiastic nod, egging him to continue. “He’s a _great_ dancer, and patient, because I’m really quite terrible.”

He paused, a lump forming in his throat, the last day catching up to him. He had been so lost, but now… “But uh… he’s made my life infinitely better, more whole. He’s like fresh air, and he doesn’t even see how incredible he is, which makes him even more incredible somehow. He means everything to me, and I’ll do _anything_ to keep him safe. No matter what it takes, I’m his.” 

Portia’s eyes are full again, shimmering with unshed tears, though her gaze isn’t on him anymore. 

He turns to see what she’s staring at, his gaze coming to rest upon the unmistakable figure that’s leaning against the doorframe, silhouetted against the moonlight. 

Then, Julian smiles at him, and his whole world falls back into place.


	93. Julian x m!Apprentice 50.

[#9. _OC sobbing over LI’s dead body._](https://drdevorakwrites.tumblr.com/post/168889338603/li-scenarios-prompt-list)

[#10. _OC singing to LI to sleep._](https://drdevorakwrites.tumblr.com/post/168889338603/li-scenarios-prompt-list)

**Warning for death, angst, blood.**

* * *

Finn remembered what Julian had said to him once.

_Stab me in the back and I’ll walk it off._

So now, with Julian laying on the ground, vivid red blossoming on his white shirt just below his heart, Finn found it hard to breathe, to _think_. 

It had all happened so fast, the guards, the _screaming._ Nadia had always wanted him taken in alive, or so she had said. She knew nothing about the curse, the curse that had seemingly just… stopped. 

The bodies of the guards littered the alleyway, lifeless eyes staring up at the stars. Finn used everything he had to destroy them, turning with a grin to look at Julian. 

And now, _now_ … 

Shaking hands reached out to pull his head from the cold ground, resting it in his lap. The blood wasn’t stopping, and he was pale, _cold_. 

“Julian… _Julian_! Stop this, you’re fine, the curse,” he stuttered, pressing his fingers to the sharp edge of Julian’s throat, the place where the mark should have been glowing. _Nothing_. “No. _No_ , stay with me. Everything’s going to be fine.”   


Julian reached up, a bloodied hand cupping Finn’s cheek, thumb stroking his skin like he always did. “It’s okay,” he winced, grinding his teeth, blood staining his lips. “I knew it wouldn’t last forever.” 

Finn shook his head sharply, tears falling fast. He pressed his hand to the wound, but it was too deep, too _late_. He tried to pull at the final shreds of his magic, but there was nothing left. Why now? _Why_ had the curse stopped working? Where the _bloody hell_ was Asra? 

“It’s fine, we’ll get you to Asra, he can help you,” he nodded, stroking red curls.    


Julian grabbed his hand, squeezing it tight. “No, Finn. _Stop_. It’s done, please just… don’t leave me.” 

Finn laughed, a manic sound. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll never leave you, I promised, remember?” 

Julian tensed up, a muffled, pained sound leaving his lips. He coughed, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, tears painting his cheeks. Finn stayed pressed close, holding him, keeping him warm, _safe_. 

“Thank you,” Julian whispered, voice growing distant. “I love you _so_ much, and I’ve known what it’s like to be loved in return.”   


“No,” Finn sobbed, as stubborn as ever, and as weak as he’d ever been. “I can’t do this without you. _Please_ , don’t leave me.”   


“Kiss me,” Julian grinned, flashing his teeth.   


Finn fought the urge to laugh, that _smile._ The shit-eating, cocky smile, the one he used whenever he wanted something, whenever he was being ridiculous. The smile that was so inherently _Julian_ that it made his heart soar every single time. 

He obliged, leaning down to press their lips together. It was desperate, ravenous. Julian thread his fingers into Finn’s hair, pulling him close, _closer_. 

Finn could hear his breath getting shallow, strained. He pressed their foreheads together again, their noses brushing, his hand on Julian’s face. He began to hum, shaky and out of tune, a song that Julian always sang whenever he made them breakfast. “I love you,” Finn whispered 

Julian smiled, his hand falling from Finn’s hair, his eye fluttering closed. 

He pressed one last kiss to parted lips, but this time, Julian didn’t kiss him back. 


	94. Julian x m!Apprentice 51.

Part 2 of the previous chapter

So, I got yelled at (lovingly) by the discord gang, and a few people in my inbox for killing Julian sooooo… 

**Warning for blood (magic). A knife is involved at one point if you’re triggered by that.**

* * *

Asra rounded the corner, blood rushing in his ears, sweat beading at his brow. All he could feel was pain, _searing_ , all-consuming. He ran faster, as fast as his feet could take him. 

Then, the pain stopped. Sudden, finite. He stilled, leaning against a house as he caught his breath, his heart rattling his ribcage. Everything was silent for the briefest of moments, before a new emotion washed over him. 

Rage. 

“No…” he mumbled, starting to run again.   


Finn. Finn. _Finn._

When he finally made it, what he saw nearly floored him. Bodies, lifeless eyes, blood, and the in centre was Finn. He was sat on the ground, rocking, holding the seemingly lifeless body of Julian, of _Ilya._

He could feel the rage rolling off him in messy, hard waves, ready to boil over and consume everything around them. He didn’t know how powerful he was, but Asra did. 

He stepped forward quietly. “Finn, I need you to breathe.” 

Finn’s head snapped up and he slowly turned, his once golden eyes glowing a devilish red, a bloody hand print on his cheek. He was crying, and Asra caught a glimpse of Julian, red curls matted with blood, laying in his lap. 

Asra swallowed, trying not to let his own emotions overtake him. What had gone wrong? The protection spell shouldn’t have just… stopped. He did it for a reason, Julian was important, and this, _this_ could not be happening. 

He slowly crouched to sit beside Finn, those red eyes still firmly fixed on him, practically burning into him. He reached out, placing a hand upon Finn’s shoulder. “Finn, listen to me. You need to close your eyes, and I need you to remember what I taught you about control. Can you do that for me?”

Finn looked down at Julian, then back up at Asra. “Bring him back.” 

His voice echoed, a lilting dual-tone that sent a chill down Asra’s spine. Unstable magic was pouring from him, over everything around them. Asra couldn’t _breathe_ , suffocating under the strength of it. 

“I need you to breathe. _Please,_ ” he choked, trying to stay calm, trying to reach out with his own magic and do _something_ to stop this. He could feel Finn dipping into his reserves, pulling information from him. “ _No!_ ” 

Finn smiled, and before Asra could even think about stopping him, everything went black.

* * *

_Blood_. Blood was the key. Wasn’t it always? 

Finn had never felt power like it. Thousands of hands, all holding him, _clawing_ at him, trying to pull him, take him away. 

_Join us._

He closed his eyes, Julian’s smiling face beautiful before him. “Not today.” 

He reached into his pocket and pulled out his butterfly knife, flicking it open. The blade was welcome upon his skin, cutting into his palm with ease, right through his lifeline. He threw it aside, raising his hand to the sky as he began to chant. 

He could hear the steady thrum of Asra’s heartbeat, his former master’s presence feeding him, grounding him as he lay beside him in a deep sleep. He drew from him, dipping into his reserves and mixing them with his own, the power overwhelming. He didn’t know how he was doing it, didn’t _want_ to know. 

He grit his teeth, his jaw clenched _tight_ as he poured everything he had into the spell. 

Then, another heartbeat. It was stuttering, unsteady, but it was there, and it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. He glanced down, grabbing Julian’s wrist and pressing to find a pulse. Nothing. 

He leaned in, his ear to Julian’s mouth. Nothing. 

“No. No, no, _no_!”   


Asra shot up beside him, gasping for breath, violet eyes wide, wild. “ _Finn_ …” 

Finn didn’t look, didn’t need to see the disappointment in his eyes. He had failed him, betrayed everything he’d ever taught him about being kind and good and _careful_. All for nothing. 

He began to cry, rocking himself back and forth, Julian’s cold hand clutched against his chest. 

Then, Asra placed a hand upon his, and he could feel something even more powerful surging through him as they bonded, Asra’s magic somehow not as strong as his, but seemingly doing what he couldn’t. 

Julian’s fingers squeezed his, his head shifting in his lap, an incoherent mumble falling from bloody lips.  

Asra released his grip on them, falling back, _drained._

Finn scrambled to help Julian sit up, his eyes wide as the man blinked up at him, his brow furrowed, hand pressed against his temple. “Ouch.” 

“Julian,” he mumbled, his hands clutching desperately at his shirt, at anything he could get his damn hands on.   


Then, Asra was pushing him away, coming between them. He quickly placed his hands either side of Julia’s face, closing his eyes tight and ignoring Finn’s confused protests. He pulled away, glaring at Finn, an anger in his gaze he’d never seen before. “You’re _lucky_.” 

Julian reached for Finn, confused, scared. “Finn? I don’t… what happened?” 

Finn could only look at Asra, feel the disappointment rolling off him. 

_He could have come back wrong._

“He didn’t,” Finn said, quiet, unsure. 

“No. Like I said, you’re _lucky_.”    


Julian was clutching at him, pulling him close, pressing his face into his neck. He blindly reciprocated the embrace, arms wrapping around him. “I love you,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.” 

Julian pulled away, glancing between him and Asra. “You shouldn’t have done that,” he sighed. “Asra?” 

Asra shook his head, his eyes still fixed on Finn. “No. But you’re fine, Ilya. It’s fine.” 

He turned, unsteady as he walked away. 

As wrong as he had been, as _dangerous_ , all Finn could feel was relief as his lips met Julian’s. 

Julian, who was alive and here and _whole_. 

And Finn would do it all again in a heartbeat. 


	95. Julian x m!Apprentice 52.

Modern AU ‘Dads’ request.

________

Finn followed the sound of muffled giggles up the stairs with a smile on his face, leaning against the doorframe to observe a pair of too-long legs sticking out of the makeshift blanket fort. 

He waited in silence as long as he could stand, listening to his daughter shamelessly making fun of Julian and his _terrible_ singing as he attempted to serenade her. 

He crawled over to the fort, tugging at Julian’s toes. Julian popped his head out, his red hair littered with badly done braids and tiny, haphazardly placed pink bows. He grinned, handsome as ever. “What’s the password?” 

Finn quirked his eyebrow, fighting the urge to smile. “Ummm, well it was _Papa smells_ yesterday, so… _Daddy smells_?” 

Julian disappeared back inside the sheets, whispering with the little girl before popping his head back out. “You may enter.” He parted the ‘door’, shuffling aside to let him in. 

Isabella was sat on a pile of pillows, tiny legs crossed elegantly as she painted Julian’s fingernails a garish shade of blue. Her tongue poked out as she concentrated, a habit she’d learned from Julian. She barely glanced at Finn as he got comfortable next to Julian, her long, black curls falling in her face. 

Finn cleared his throat. “Excuse me, aren’t you going to say hello? Do I not get a hug?” 

She sighed dramatically, another thing that was quintessentially Julian, and glanced up at him with big, brown eyes. “Daddy, I’m _very_ busy.” 

Finn looked at Julian, wide-eyed but still fighting the urge to smile. 

Julian raised his free hand in defense. “Hey, she has _your_ attitude, don’t look at me.” 

Finn smirked, leaning in to pluck a bow from behind Julian’s ear. “Pink is _not_ your colour. It clashes with your hair.”

Julian smiled back, blushing slightly as Finn leaned in to place a chaste kiss to his lips. 

“No!” Izzie exclaimed, swiftly abandoning her nail painting duties to place herself between them, wrapping her arms around Finn’s neck. “ _Stop,”_ she sighed, her tiny nose crinkling in disgust.   


Finn and Julian shared a knowing glance, before they both began to litter her chubby cheeks with an onslaught of sloppy kisses. They fell into a messy pile of pillows, musical giggles filling their ears. 


	96. Modern AU Updates

A few new chapters of my Modern AU have been posted here!


	97. Julian x m!Apprentice 53.

**NSFW**

* * *

The Raven was packed to the brim, patrons from every corner of town dancing and drinking on this hot Vesuvian night. 

Julian and Finn were tucked away in their usual booth in the corner, a few pints of terrible ale already polished off, both of their cheeks flushed from the alcohol. 

Finn had a certain look in his eyes, a look Julian knew all too well, a look that told him he was well and truly _screwed._  

He cleared his throat, his cheeks burning under the scrutiny. “ _Finnegan_ …” he warned, watching as Finn’s golden eyes flickered, _glowed_ in the way they did when he used magic. He swiftly disappeared, a curtain of light washing over him and leaving nothing in it’s wake. 

Julian sighed, shifting in his seat as he felt a familiar pair or hands running up his thighs. He bit his lip as his trousers magically came undone, glancing around the room to see if anyone was paying him any attention. 

They weren’t.

He felt fingers curl around the base of his suddenly _painfully_ hard cock, hissing as warm, wet lips brushed across the flushed head. 

“ _Fuck!_ ” he gasped, if not a _little_ too loud. He gripped the edge of the table, his stein sloshing beer over the table. His hips rutted forward into the blinding heat of Finn’s mouth, dropping his chin to his chest. “Oh, _oh my God_.” 

He closed his eyes, imagining the way Finn’s raven hair would be falling in his face, picturing the way his eye would be raised to meet his, his lips parted, his cock resting _just there_ and… 

It was almost too much, the slick glide of that talented tongue, the fact that they were in a room full of _bloody_ people. He felt Finn working his jaw open around him, sinking further, taking every inch inside until his nose brushed against the muscles of his lower abdomen. 

Julian white-knuckled, his fingers _hurting_ where they dug into the wooden table. “I’m going… you’re… you’re going to make me _come,_ ” he whispered, voice wrecked, raspy. 

He heard, _felt_ , Finn chuckle as he pulled back, dipping back down again, his hand twisting around the base. 

He tensed, his body on fire, _burning_ as that familiar, delicious feeling exploded, unfurling deep in his abdomen. He squeezed his eyes shut and came with a muffled cry. His toes curled in his boots, the effort of staying quiet killing him. 

Finn moaned around him, continuing to work his too-sensitive cock, swallowing everything Julian gave him and humming greedily. 

Then, nothing. 

Julian quickly sorted himself out, fumbling to do up his trousers as Finn re-materialized in the booth opposite him, a satisfied, _shit-eating_ grin on swollen lips. 

Julian frowned, running a shaking hand through his hair, his forehead slick with sweat. “ _Fuck you_ ,” he groaned, sliding down in the leather seat. 

Finn simply shrugged, licking his lips as he brought his stein up to his mouth and took a long, well deserved swig. 


	98. Finn x Astoria 1.

a little thing with @[nelmdraws](nelmdraws.tumblr.com) flat-out babe, Astoria. I really hope you like it, and that you don’t mind that I borrowed her (I’m… obsessed).

Christie was kind enough to add a beautiful sketch which you can see [here](https://drdevorakwrites.tumblr.com/post/169559770743/nelmdraws-drdevorakwrites-continuing-with).  
__________

  
Finn felt like he was floating, and couldn’t decide if it was from the many glasses of wine, or from being in such close proximity to _her_.

  
He grinned as Astoria twirled back into him, her skirt swishing gracefully around her ankles, a mischievous glimmer in vivid aquamarine eyes. She stifled a giggle as she fell against his chest, dark lashes fluttering as a light blush painted tawny cheeks. She was beautiful.

  
He bit his bottom lip, reaching up to touch thick, silky, midnight blue curls, wild strands snarling around his fingers. “You’re a formidable dance partner.”

  
She seemed to lean towards him imperceptively, making herself taller by arching up onto the balls of her feet, her lips merely a breath away. He smiled, parting his lips until she grabbed his hand and threw herself back into an elegant spin, winking as she danced away from him.

  
He dramatically clutched his chest. “You wound me,” he sighed, still smiling as he pulled her in again.

  
This time, he wasn’t letting her get away so easily, clutching her waist and dipping her backwards, leaning in close, their noses brushing. “Can I kiss you, bluebird?”

  
She crinkled her nose, perfect lips twisting into a contemplative, teasing pout. “Hmmm, I’m not so sure,” she smirked, tapping her finger to her chin playfully.

  
He kept his golden eyes fixed on her, shaking his head with a grin. Then, her lips were on his, and he forgot how to bloody think, completely and utterly entranced.

  
He pulled her upright without breaking the kiss, his hand around the back of her neck, cupping the delicate curve of her skull, his other hand clasping hers tightly. Their lips moved together at a gentle, sensual pace, both of them smiling like idiots when they finally parted.

  
He trailed his fingers down her cheek, still lost in the sensation, lost in her.  
She grabbed his wrist, turning to press a kiss to his palm. “Not such a bad dance partner yourself,” she purred, laughing lightly as she watched pink swirl across his cheeks, knowing that making Finnegan Lightwood blush was the rarest of feats.


	99. Julian x m!Apprentice 54. (Vampire au)

Julian startled as the door slammed shut, head snapping up from his book to see Finn with his back pressed against it, red eyes wild and _glowing_ with anger. His fingers dug into the wood, easily marking it with long indents.

Julian stood slowly, his hands raised, defensive. He’d become used to being cautious around his newly turned partner, now somewhat of an expert in dealing with his new volatile nature. He began to walk towards him, Finn straightening from his crouched position, eyes trained on him, watching every step with intense scrutiny.

“What happened?” 

Finn closed his eyes, shaking his head so fast it was almost a blur. “Don’t come near me. I… I almost _fed_ on someone,” he groaned, dropping his chin to his chest in shame. 

As Julian took one more step closer, Finn snarled, his lips curled to reveal pointed teeth. In a flash, before Julian could even think about moving, Finn had him pinned against the door, his nose pressed to the hollow of his throat. 

“ _I told you not to come near me_ ,” he hissed, scratching the surface of his skin lightly with the tip of his fangs, before sucking a bruise into the skin above his hammering pulse. 

Julian whimpered, Finn’s hand snaking down beneath the waistband of his trousers, deft fingers circling his already painfully hard cock. 

Finn hissed, pulling back to look at him. “Julian,” he smirked, that new, teasing sing-song voice still unfamiliar, yet not unwelcome. “The things I could do to you, and still,” he chuckled, tightening his grip and stroking down once. 

Julian exhaled sharply, biting his lip to stifle another pathetic whimper. He looked up, meeting that menacing gaze. “I’ll always want you.” 

Finn leaned in _close_ , inhaling him and humming in appreciation. A crooked smile crossed his lips as he pressed the hard lines of his body against him, his strength overwhelming, intoxicating. Julian was pretty sure he could come right now, just like this. 

Finn was calming down, his eyes dulling to their now-normal deep red, the manic glow dulling. He drew his thumb around the tip of Julian’s cock, spreading the wetness before beginning to set a languid pace, stroking him. He watched Julian’s expression intently, the flicker of pleasure, the flush that flooded his cheeks. 

“I can smell you, everything, it’s too… _fuck_ it drives me insane,” Finn groaned, nuzzling the sharp edge of his jaw with his nose. “Turn around, spread your legs.” 

Julian keened, the mere thought of what he was about to do, combined with the delicious rasp in his voice made him shudder. He did as he was told, turning to face the door, arching his back _just so_ as Finn ran a hand down the inside of his thighs, parting them with little resistance. 

He yanked his trousers down until they pooled at his ankles, then proceeded to rip his shirt in two, throwing the scraps to the ground. Julian heard the distinct rasp of Finn’s trousers being unbuttoned, smiling to himself as an already slick digit pressed against his entrance, Finn’s other hand still expertly working his cock. 

“Mmmm, you drive me insane, do you know that? Your blood, _everything_ about you. It’s as if you’ve been made just for me.” 

Julian nodded, turning slightly to look back at him, forever floored by how fucking _gorgeous_ he was, his already devastating features heightened by a new, not unwelcome otherworldliness. “Yes. Yours, only yours.”

He gasped, his head pressed against the wood as Finn pressed a further two digits inside, curling them perfectly. He removed them, quickly replacing them with his cock, hard and perfect as it pressed against him. Julian writhed, pushing back impatiently. 

Finn chuckled. “Ah, ah. Patience, my love.”

Julian clenched his fists as Finn surged forward, sinking his teeth into Julian’s shoulder as he did so. White-hot, _blinding_ pain mixed with a pleasure he couldn’t even describe overtook him, a wet gush of blood trickling down his back as Finn set a gentle pace. 

The moment was so intimate, Julian fell apart, coming with a strangled cry over Finn’s fingers, causing him to bite harder, thrust _harder_.

He removed his teeth from him, grabbing red curls and yanking his head back to catch his lips in a ravenous kiss, the taste of blood upon his tongue. Julian pushed back again as Finn slicked their tongues together, Finn swiftly coming _hard_ , fingers digging into Julian’s hips as he stuttered out one final, messy thrust. 

He pulled out, growling deep in his chest as he spun Julian to face him, both of them clawing at one another, desperate for more, more, _more_. 

“I love you, _fuck_ I love you so much,” Finn groaned, breaking the desperate kiss to press their foreheads together. “Never leave me, I wouldn’t survive.” 

Julian brushed raven hair from his face, trailing his thumb down to blood stained, kiss swollen lips. He shook his head, smiling softly. “Never.” 

“For eternity?”

“Until the day I die.”


	100. Julian x m!Apprentice 55.

Finn tangled greedy fingers into red, untamed curls, the delicate strands twisting around his hands. He didn’t need to fight the impulse to tug until Julian’s throat was bared, he was already submitting so beautifully.    


His lips were parted, bare chest heaving and flushed as he kneeled before him. _Fuck_ , he wanted to sink his teeth into him, suck bruise after bruise until that too-pale canvas was covered with blooming purples and pinks, just _mark him_ in every possible way. 

Julian reached with long fingers to pry open his trousers, his gaze hungry as he took in what waited for him below that trail of dark hair that traveled down _down._ He tugged his lower lip between his teeth, a barely restrained groan bubbling in his throat as he curled one hand around Finn’s cock, squeezing, _desperate._ His tongue flicked out to wet his lips, gazing up to meet hungry golden eyes. “Please?”

Finn nodded, hissing through clenched teeth as Julian slowly rubbed the already slick head along his glistening bottom lip, the sight of that alone enough to unmake him. Julian proceeded to wrap his mouth around him, teeth rasping along the sensitive underside, testing him. Finn growled, _snarled_ , his grip on Julian’s hair tightening. Julian smiled around him, keening, clearly enjoying the visceral reaction a little _too_ much. 

“You like that?” Finn questioned, his voice nothing more than a rasp, wrecked.   


Julian nodded, the silver of his eye eclipsed by black as he gazed up at him. Finn grinned. “Very well.” 

He pulled his head back _hard_ , thrusting forward into the _hot_ liquid glide of Julian’s perfect mouth, sinking himself deep into his throat. Julian took every inch of him with ease, with _pleasure_ , his hands reaching to grip at Finn’s hips, thumbs digging in as he swallowed him down. 

Finn pulled back, allowing Julian a moment to breathe, but Julian leaned back in so eagerly, that wicked tongue swirling around the flushed tip before he was teasing him with his teeth again, Finn’s hips bucking helplessly as he swallowed him right down to the root once more. Julian hollowed his cheeks, sucking _hard_ , Finn unable to stifle the embarrassingly _loud_ groan that fell from his lips. He could feel himself unraveling, everything too much, but he needed _more_. 

A _lways more_. 

As Julian set a greedy pace, Finn closed his eyes, his head lulling back, losing himself in the tight, _hot_ , perfect sensation. “ _Ilya_ …” he purred, Julian whimpering in response. Their eyes met and Julian had never looked more perfect, those beautiful lips swollen, his cheeks and broad chest flushed the deepest shade of red. 

Finn’s breath caught in his throat as he came, caught off guard by the violent and _incredible_  explosion. Julian greedily swallowed everything he gave him, pulling away with a slick  _‘pop’,_  licking him once from base to tip in a way that curled Finn’s toes. 

Finn clawed at him, tugging him to stand, his big hand cupping the back of his neck, fitting perfectly over the curve of his skull. He needed him close, _closer_ , never enough. He pulled him in for a depraved kiss, licking _deep_ into his mouth, relishing in the taste of himself on Julian’s tongue. Julian kissed him back with everything he had, clawing at him like a lifeline. 


	101. Asra x Julian 8.

Julian slid through the shadows, pressing his back to the wall of the alley as he sussed out his surroundings. 

Asra was still unconscious, thankfully, and Julian was acting on impulse. All he knew is that he had to save him, no question. 

After all, it _was_ thanks to him the witch had found himself in this unsavoury predicament. 

Julian had been fully prepared to die on that day, the snug noose welcome around his neck, ready to face his fate. But, as Asra had created a rather impressive magical pyrotechnics display, he had whispered _’not your time, Ilya’_. 

They began to stack the wood around Asra’s feet, a fitting yet cliché death for a witch, even in a place where magic was so openly accepted. It was cruel, and the sight of it stirred a certain rage in Julian’s gut. Regardless of their questionable history, he had loved Asra once, even if it felt like it was in another lifetime, the memories faded and dreamlike. 

Asra began to stir as the firewood piled up around him, immediately struggling against his restraints. He tried to cast a spell, his fingers emitting a dull, red glow before fizzling out. He’d been beaten by the look of it, possibly drugged too. 

His violet eyes were wide, panicked, and Julian made the rash decision to act immediately, unable to watch him suffer any further. He grabbed the flask from his coat, stepping into the street and throwing it right in front of the pyre. 

He pulled on his mask, his vision glassy red through the bulging eyes, dark plumes of smoke rising up and blinding anyone in the vicinity. He sprinted forward, making quick work of the ropes that bound Asra’s wrists and legs. 

Asra fell into his arms, wrapping his arms around Julian’s neck. He was dazed, weak, but still managed to flash him a dreamy smile. “My hero.” 

Julian snorted. “We’re not out of danger yet my friend. Cover your face.” 

Asra pulled his scarf up over his mouth & nose, tucking himself into Julian’s chest as he ran to the only place he ever felt safe. 

______

He carefully set Asra down on the bed, sitting on the edge of the mattress and twirling his mask in his hands. “Are you okay?”

Asra sighed, stretching his arms above his head. He sat up, placing a warm hand on Julian’s arm. “I guess we’re even now. Thank you, Ilya.”

Julian rolled his eye, attempting and failing to suppress the smile that twitched at the corners of his mouth. “Get some sleep,” he nodded, leaving the witch to get his rest. 

Mazelinka looked up at him as he entered the kitchen, her gaze far too judgmental for his liking. He shook his head, sliding down the wall, head resting against bent knees. “Don’t look at me like that.” 

She tutted, going back to stirring the soup. “He’ll break your heart again.” 

Julian smirked. “I know.”


	102. Julian x m!Apprentice 55.

He’d been unable to tear his eyes away, watching the life drain from his soulmates eyes, sparkling silver fading to dull grey, the spark gone. 

He might have screamed, had he been able to move, think, feel. Everything had just… stopped. 

Finn was numb, still as stone as they pulled the noose from around Julian’s neck, struggling to drag his long-limbed and lifeless body from the platform. He was still so beautiful, the vivid red of his hair standing out amongst the sea of black hoods and robes surrounding him. 

A shaking hand touched his arm, then another on the other side. Asra. Portia. He couldn’t hear them, the thrumming, _deafening_ pound of his heart in his ears making everything else sound so far away, muffled. 

Portia would definitely be crying, screaming, even. He wished he could comfort her, but if he moved he would fall apart. 

Not an inch, not a breath, nothing. 

Nothing. 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

He woke with a start, bare body drenched in sweat, sheets sticking to every inch of him. His throat was raw, mouth dry, cheeks wet, streaked with tears.

Warm hands clawed at him, fingers digging _hard_ into his skin, pulling him close. “Shhh, it’s okay. I’m here, calm down. I’m _here_.” 

_Julian_.

He turned, blinking away the tears, allowing Julian to come into focus. Mine, here, _alive_. 

He wordlessly collapsed against his chest, fingers desperately clinging to his arms, lips seeking the hollow of his throat, pressed tight to a beautifully beating pulse. 

He breathed him in, filling his lungs greedily as Julian wrapped strong arms around him, pressing his lips into his hair, whispering soothing words that tugged him back to reality. 

_Never leave me. I won’t survive it._


	103. Julian x m!Apprentice 56.

Warning for blood. 

* * *

Finn lay on the cold ground, the uneven cobblestones digging into his back, staring up at the stars, his vision blurring. 

_Well, shit._

He always thought he might die in a more valiant way, maybe jumping in front of an arrow to save a damsel in distress, or in the middle of a really _cool_ magic fight. But no, here he was in a filthy alleyway, slowly bleeding to death from a pretty pathetic, but well-placed stab wound.   


He tried to move, only making the wound angrier as he twisted, a fresh ooze of warm, _thick_ blood coating his fingers. He inhaled sharply from the pain, hot like a poker jammed between his ribs. 

“ _Fuck_.”  


All thoughts drifted towards red hair splayed on his pillow, pale skin under his fingertips, that _damn_ smirk, his blush. He sighed, if he really was going to die like this he hoped that at least he’d get to see him one last time… 

Then, the sound of quick, frantic footsteps approached, Julian skidding to a stop around the corner, almost falling on blood-slick stone. “Finn!” He fell to his knees beside him, immediately tugging his gloves off, his hands still steady as he pressed them to the wound. “No, no… stay with me, okay? I’ve got this…” 

Finn was always so impressed when _Doctor Devorak_ came out to play, his usual clumsy shyness effortlessly replaced with a certain stern elegance. He winced, grabbing Julian’s wrists. “I don’t want to see you suffer.”

Julian frowned, cheeks beautifully flushed from running, his silver eye flashing with anger. “Are you _joking_? You’re going to die if I don’t.” He snatched himself free from Finn’s grip, pressing down on the wound again. “Shut up and stay still.” 

Finn hissed, the bite of pain sharp, but the feel of his warm palms was welcome, the curse knitting him back together, sinew, flesh, skin. He felt the air return to his lungs, no more blood rising up in his throat to choke him, to drown him. 

Julian pressed a hand to his cheek, leaving bloody fingerprints upon pale skin, the mark that glowed on his throat slowly fading. “Thank goodness. What the _hell_ happened?”

Finn moved to sit up, feeling… strange. Julian had healed him before, but this was different, this had been _bad._  “It’s all a blur. I just… _thank you_. I love you.” 

Julian smiled, his soft expression quickly twisting into something different, something pained. He fell back, hands clutched to his chest, blood blossoming upon his white shirt. 

Finn lurched forward, stopping when Julian raised a finger. “I’ll be fine just… give me a moment.” 

“I’m sorry,” Finn groaned, watching beads of sweat form on his brow, his skin getting clammy, paler, if such a thing were possible. He helped him stand, wrapping his hand around his waist. “Let’s get you home.”   



	104. Asra x m!Apprentice 1.

I listened to [Right Red Hand](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hpSfqI0DSHk) while writing this.

* * *

Asra sat on the bed, eyes closed, legs crossed, hands clasped in his lap. He took a deep breath, smiling to himself as he heard the shop door open, then lock shut. He’d been waiting so patiently. 

Slow, heavy footsteps echoed in the kitchen, then up the stairs. Asra tried to suppress his unbidden grin as the door to the tiny bedroom slowly creaked open. He felt Finn’s presence, that delicious hum of magic surrounding him, _consuming_ him. Whenever his Master entered a room it was like he’d finally been permitted to breathe after a lifetime of holding his breath. 

The bed creaked and shifted beneath Finn’s weight, a pair of strong hands running up Asra’s thighs, Asra finally giving in an opening his eyes, meeting a golden gaze swallowed by endless black. He bit his lip _hard,_ trying to suppress a helpless whimper as Finn ran a hand down his bare chest. 

“ _Good_ , you didn’t move. So obedient.”   


Their eyes locked and Asra tilted his head, bearing his throat, inviting him in. Finn smirked, leaning in to slide his tongue along the curve of his jaw, before trailing down to press his lips to the frenetic thrum of his pulse. A ragged groan left Asra’s lips as Finn bit the sensitive skin at the hollow of his throat. 

“So responsive today,” Finn murmured. “Did you miss me that much?” 

Asra uncrossed his legs, spreading them shamelessly and letting Finn get a good look at _just_ how much he’d missed him, the outline of his straining erection evident through the thin fabric of his trousers.  

Finn hummed, clearly pleased with what he saw, reaching to tangle fingers into soft, white hair. He crawled forward, fitting perfectly between Asra’s spread legs as he licked deep into his mouth.

Asra shuddered, gratefully leaning into him like a flower to the sun, willing to kill, willing to _die_ for him. 

_Anything_. 

It was maddening, this crazy, uninhibited, _shameless_ kind of love that was so much deeper than anything he could even dream of.   


Finn reached down, dipping his hand beneath the waistband of his loose trousers, curling deft fingers around Asra’s cock with a growl, spreading the wetness that had pooled at the tip, pulling away from the kiss to _really_ look at him. 

Asra whimpered, helpless as the unmistakable, _powerful_ buzz of Finn’s magic rolled over him. He could feel everything _,_ Finn opening up, pouring himself into him with a crooked, devastating grin as he finally began to stroke him, so slow, _gentle_ at first Asra thought he might break. He sucked in a breath as Finn’s grip tightened, his grin widening as his strokes grew more desperate.  


“You have, _ah_ , too many clothes on,” Asra mumbled, hooded violet eyes flickering over Finn’s fully-clothed form, _dying_ to see him, to touch him.   


Finn pressed a big, firm hand to his chest, pushing him down against the mattress and quickly removing his grip from his cock, Asra whimpering pathetically at the loss of contact. He sat back, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, discarding it with a smile. He unbuttoned his trousers, not bothering to push them down trim hips but simply leaving them open, as big a tease as ever.  

“There you are,” Asra sighed, reaching for him, Finn leaning into his touch as though he was hungry for it.   


Asra drew in a shuddering breath as Finn pressed against him, warm skin upon warm skin and just so fucking, maddeningly _perfect._  


“Tell me what you want,” Finn murmured, pulling Asra’s earlobe between his teeth.

Asra wet his lips, struggling to find something to say. What _did_ he want? It sounded like a simple question, but when Finn had given him so much, the choice was never easy. 

“ _Tell me_ , or I’ll give you no choice,” Finn growled, tugging at white hair, pulling his head back to expose his throat as he pressed his lips to Asra’s jaw once again. 

Asra responded in kind, waves of pleasure radiating from the harsh touch, spreading through his veins. He smiled to himself, waiting for the inevitable impatience to grasp Finn and pull out the devil in him, arching up against him like a cat. 

Finn hissed through clenched teeth, feeling Asra’s hardness press against his own. He pulled away with a snarl, roughly tugging Asra’s trousers down over slim hips and just _watching_ him. He watched his cock jerk against his tense, tight stomach, watched him lose his _fucking_ mind as he waited to be touched again.

Asra was so hard it was starting to hurt, writhing his hips to seek even the tiniest bit of friction. “Do you want me to beg? Is that it?” He murmured, his voice a broken, desperate thing. “ _Please,_ Master.” 

Finn’s lips curled into a wicked smile, his teeth bared. “Oh I do _love_ to hear you beg,” he sighed, raising his hand, a distinctive, soft glow radiating from his fingertips. 

Asra felt the invisible hand curl around him, crying out helplessly as Finn toyed with him, the tight, _hot_  feel of a fist that wasn’t there stroking him, unmaking him.   


“Good boy,” Finn growled, reaching out to grip Asra’s wrist  _tight,_  painfully so. He ran his other hand down Asra’s chest, blunt nails raking red tracks from his neck to the firm base of his stomach, eyes wide with wonder as he watched marks appear upon tawny skin. 

The magic faded, Asra able to breathe again as it released him, Finn quickly replacing it’s grip with his own. 

“Come for me, my love.”

Asra gasped, every nerve ending on fire, breath coming in hitching gasps, his legs shuddering. He came _hard_ , Finn moaning loudly at the sight of it, curling his free hand around his own cock and stroking himself as he watched Asra fall apart. It didn’t take him long to follow, spilling himself over Asra’s stomach, a throaty, satisfied chuckle falling from parted lips. 

He covered Asra, not caring about the mess between them, catching his lips in a gentle kiss. He pulled away slightly, their foreheads pressed together. “ _Asra_ ,” he whispered, smiling softly. “ _Mine_ …” 

_Yes. Totally. Completely. Irrevocably._


	105. Julian x Asra x m!Apprentice 5.

He could feel Julian clawing at him, pulling him close, panic pouring off him in messy waves as he desperately begged Finn to say something, _anything_.

Finn gasped, filling his lungs like it was his very first breath. He blinked up at Julian, his hands reaching to touch his face, to check he was real. 

Was anything real right now? 

Had it all been a dream? 

He sat up, shaking away the haze that seemed to be surrounding him, breath finally steady, his head, however…

He looked over Julian’s shoulder, meeting that familiar violet gaze, his heart lurching in his chest. Asra stood still, lips parted, cheeks streaked with tears.

Finn remembered _everything_. Every smile, every touch, every kiss, the love, the pain. 

As he sat with Julian’s arms around him, he couldn’t tear his eyes from his former student, feeling like a traitor to both men, like a bloody _idiot_. 

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. You’re okay,” Julian whispered, long fingers stroking through his hair, lips pressed to his forehead. 

Asra blinked at them, as if clearing his thoughts, taking a step backwards. Finn instinctively moved towards him, seemingly moving into Julian’s embrace. Then, Asra smiled, shaking his head. 

_Not me. Not anymore._

He didn’t hear the words, he _felt_ them, watching as Asra turned and walked away. Finn pulled away from Julian’s grip, staring deep into his eye. “I love you,” he whispered. “I love you, I love you, I _love_ you.”

Julian brushed a stray tear from Finn’s cheek. “I know, I _know_ you do.” 

Finn nodded, pressing his head back upon Julian’s chest, allowing himself to _feel_ , and trying to push any lingering thoughts of white hair messy on his pillow, and tawny skin under his fingertips.


	106. Julian x Asra x m!Apprentice 6.

A continuation of the last chapter.

I listened to [this](https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=H2nMUrSv4hE%E2%80%9D) whilst writing. 

______

Finn crept down the stairs, unable to sleep, unable to push away the swirling, suffocating memories that had flooded back to him, that continued to do so. 

Bleary, over-tired eyes focused on a single candle lit at the tarot table, Asra illuminated by its soft glow, his head lowered, shoulders slumped. 

Finn took a deep breath, sliding into the booth beside him. Asra sat up, startled and swiped at his cheeks, sniffling as he registered Finn’s closeness. “Hi.” 

He didn’t know what to say, what to do, how to act. Inside he was screaming, his overwhelmed brain telling him that this was who he loved, who he was meant to be with. 

_Kiss him, touch him, take him._

He tore his gaze from him, eyes closed tight, fingers pressed to his temple as he tried to will the voices to disappear. Julian slept peacefully in the bed upstairs, and he felt like he’d left half of himself up there with him, tucked beneath the sheets, wrapped up in his arms. 

“I remember _everything_ ,” he whispered, his voice wavering, breaking. “I feel like I’m slipping away, my head it’s… I just…”

Asra was touching him now, shaking, soft hands reaching for him, fingers laced together. It felt right, perfect. “Please don’t leave me again, you need to breathe, _focus_. I can’t take it, losing you was the second hardest thing I’ve ever had to endure.”

Finn opened his eyes, squeezing Asra’s fingers. “What was the first?” 

Asra smiled, wistful, _beautiful_. “Ah, well, the first was having you with me, but not being able to touch, or taste, or…” he trailed off, shaking his head. “You get the picture.”

Finn exhaled sharply, running his thumb along the back of Asra’s hand, a gesture that felt as though he’d done it a thousand times before. He looked up, vivid violet eyes locking with his sad gold, Asra closer than he expected. They gravitated towards each other without even thinking. 

“What now?”

Asra huffed a laugh, resting his head upon Finn’s shoulder, white hair tickling his neck. “Nothing changes, I suppose. You’ll be you, I’ll be me. We just… carry on.” 

“But _everything_ has changed.”

Asra lazily lifted his head, reluctantly pulling away from Finn’s grip and reaching to cup his cheek. He smiled, leaning in and pressing their lips together. It was sweet, tender, and Finn felt… nothing. 

As they parted, Asra shook his head, running his thumb along Finn’s bottom lip, a certain kind of longing written all over his perfect face. “You love Julian, hold on to that. Don’t ruin it for the sake of memories. I love you, but it’s not our time anymore.”

“Asra…”

_I love you too, I’m lost._

“Shhh. I know. I _know_ you do,” he edged away, putting space between them. “Now, go to him.” 

Finn stood, pausing as that magnet-like pull tugged at him once more. “Will you stay?” 

“Always.” 


	107. Julian x m!Apprentice 57.

A continuation of the last chapter.

__________ 

Julian woke to an empty bed, the space next to him cold when he reached out. He rubbed his eyes, pulling his eyepatch on before wrapping the sheet around his bare waist and making his way downstairs in search of Finn. 

He heard low voices in the kitchen, hushed conversation he knew wasn’t meant for his ears. 

He slid down the wall, sitting on the stairs and fiddled with the edge of the sheet mindlessly, wise enough to give the two men their privacy, not entirely sure he _wanted_ to hear what they were discussing. 

Finn had been silent since the spell had been broken, his memory loss was far more severe than Julian’s, and Julian could tell the memories that had been returned to him were more painful, more difficult to process than the ones Julian had regained. 

It had been simple for him, a few poorly judged nights of passion with Asra, drinks on the balcony with the Countess, midnight swims in the fountain, oh, and the little revelation that he _wasn’t_ Lucio’s murderer. He smiled, resting his head against the wall as he finally felt whole again, no more missing puzzle pieces to claw at, his conscience clear. 

He heard footsteps, straightening as Finn came into view. He look tired, utterly wrecked, but he still smiled when he saw Julian. He dragged himself up the stairs, sitting next to him and immediately seeking his warmth, fingers lacing together as he rest his head upon Julian’s shoulder. 

Julian knew he’d need time, and he knew he couldn’t pry, knew that Finn would tell him when he was ready. “Are you okay?” He pressed a kiss into raven hair, wrapping his arm around his shoulder and pulling him close. 

Finn took a deep breath, pausing for a second before lifting his head, that beautiful golden gaze staring deep into his soul. “I will be, I have you,” he smiled, pressing a kiss to the corner of Julian’s mouth. 

“And Asra, is _he_ okay?”

Finn dropped his gaze, his smile fading. He rest his head upon Julian’s shoulder again, tracing the thick, black lines of the murderers brand with his fingertip. “In time,” he sighed, his voice low, distant. “I love you, Julian. No matter what, I need to to know that.”

Julian squeezed him tightly, holding on for dear life. “I know.” 


	108. Julian x m!Apprentice 58.

“W-what are you _doing_?!”

Finn looked up at Julian, grinning as he tugged off his trousers. “What does it look like?” 

Julian scoffed, flushing a beautiful shade of pink as his eyes frantically scanned the gardens. He stepped forward, attempting to stifle a groan as Finn finally removed his underwear, standing in all his naked glory. “We are in the _palace_ , Finnegan!” 

“Ohh, _Finnegan_ , is it? You must be mad,” he chuckled. 

He ignored Julian’s protests and stepped into the fountain, swiftly dipping below the shallow surface and emerging looking like some kind of bloody _god,_ water droplets dipping into to every deep curve of muscle, raven locks clinging to his perfect face. 

Julian swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry as Finn smirked, offering him his hand, golden eyes glistening. “Come on, its late, and know the guards won’t be by for at least an hour. Please join me?” 

How could he resist? He sighed dramatically, unbuttoning his shirt. “You are the worst.” 

Finn flicked a handful of water at him, grinning like a fool as Julian stepped in to join him. He reached up, pulling him down for a crushing kiss, the water gently lapping around their bare waists. 

Julian hummed gratefully as Finn ran wet hands through his hair, tugging gently. “You look good in the moonlight,” Finn sighed, pressing a kiss to his jaw, trailing down the column of his throat. “I mean, you always look good, but _now…”_

Julian bit his lip as Finn growled against his skin, his teeth lightly scraping along the curve of his throat, fingers still tangled in red curls.

“You’re the worst,” Julian grinned, gratefully sinking into Finn’s hungry embrace, forgetting where they were, the day, the month, even his damn _name…_


	109. Julian x m!Apprentice 59.

It was so rare that Julian got a good nights sleep, so when Finn woke to the sounds of him having a nightmare, his heart broke. 

Finn paused for a moment, listening to the broken-off whimpers, the incoherent but clearly terrified mumbles. He shuffled closer, skin-on-skin as he tugged Julian back against his chest, holding him _tight_. 

“Hey,” he whispered, lips pressed to Julian’s ear, fingers brushing wild curls aside. 

Julian stirred, his tired grey eye flying open, fingers scrambling to grab for Finn’s arm where it was slung over his waist. He was sweating, chest heaving as he gasped for a steady breath. When he realised he was safe, he relaxed, sighing in frustration. “I’m so sorry.”

Finn pressed a kiss to his cheek, resting his chin upon Julian’s shoulder as he embraced him. “It’s okay. Are _you_ okay?” 

Julian laced their fingers together, squeezing once. He nodded, settling back into the pillow, into Finn. 

They slowly began to drift off, Finn tracing soothing circles upon the back of Julian’s hand, face pressed into his hair. 

“Finn?” 

“Mmmhmm?” 

Julian hesitated, turning his head ever so slightly. “You love me, right?” 

Finn smiled, his lips finding Julian’s in the darkness. “Always.”


	110. Asra x Julian 9.

Julian sat hunched over the table, bare chested and furiously scribbling on parchment as he tried to get a harebrained idea off his mind. 

It was early, and Asra was certainly not a morning person, so when Julian lifted his head to find the witch sleepily rubbing his eyes, wearing _his_ crumpled shirt and nothing else, a hot, embarrassing flush bloomed upon his cheeks. 

Asra yawned loudly, stretching his arms above his head and rising onto his tiptoes. He groaned as his neck clicked, lazily sliding into the booth beside Julian and resting his head on his shoulder, white lashes kissing the tops of his cheeks. “Mmmm morning.” 

Julian stiffened, causing Asra to lift his head, blinking up at him with those bright, violet eyes, his hair a beautiful mess of slightly tangled curls. “What’s wrong?” 

“You’re… you’re wearing my shirt.” 

Asra looked down, rubbing the soft material between his fingers. “This? Oh, sorry, do you want it back?” 

He started to lift it over his head and Julian quickly grabbed his wrists to stop him as sharp hipbones peeked out from underneath the hem, as if the sight of him wasn’t already tempting enough. “No, _no_! It’s fine! I uh… I’m just surprised, that’s all.” 

Asra scoffed, sitting back in the chair, the too-big shirt lulling open at the front, deliciously lean lines of muscle visible beneath tawny skin. Julian bit back a moan, trying to tear his eyes away, but failing miserably. 

Asra registered his hungry gaze, smiling sweetly. “Oh, Ilya. It was the first thing I grabbed, don’t read into it,” he purred, leaning in to press warm lips to the corner of his mouth, lingering just a moment too long to be anything other than suggestive. He winked, biting his lip before sliding out of the booth and into the kitchen. 

Julian swallowed thickly, his ears _burning_. Asra turned to look at him over his shoulder, reaching up to retrieve some mugs from the cupboard, the shirt riding up over his hips once more. “Tea?” 

Julian whimpered, slamming his forehead onto the table.


	111. Julian x Asra x m!Apprentice 8.

Julian and Finn took another deep swig from their tankards, smiling at one another across the table as Asra nuzzled closer to Finn, greedy hands tangling into his raven hair as wide violet eyes gazed up at him. 

“You’re quite nice to look at, did you know that?” 

Finn bit his lip, wrapping an arm around Asra’s waist in an attempt to steady him. “You may have told me uh… a few hundred times tonight, my love.” 

Asra pouted, resting his head on Finn’s shoulder with a sigh, crinkling his nose. “Oh.” 

Julian stifled a laugh, his lips twitching in the beautiful way they did when he was truly happy. Or drunk. Or _both_. 

“Do you think it’s time we headed home?” Julian smirked, eyeing Asra as he continued to lull all over Finn, his hands getting a little too _familiar_ for the eyes of the Raven’s patrons.   


Finn hissed as Asra squeezed his thigh. “Yes, _yes_ I think it’s time.” 

Julian pulled his coat on, then proceeded to help Finn escape Asra’s clutches, pulling the white haired witch to his feet. Asra yelped, falling against Julian’s chest and blinking up at him incredulously. 

“Oh, _hello_ ,” he purred, eyebrows raised and a suave grin on his pretty face. “You’re very tall, I’ve never really noticed quite _how_ tall you are,” he purred, biting his lip as he ran a hand down Julian’s chest, attempting to part his shirt. “Finn. Finn! He’s so tall, and _handsome_.” 

Finn came to the rescue once he’d retrieved his coat, both of them wrapping an arm around Asra, flanking his unsteady form as they exited into the cold night. “He _is_ quite handsome, isn’t he?” Finn winked, watching as a light flush spread across Julian’s cheeks. 

“I’m very lucky, the luckiest man in all of Vesuvia!” Asra proclaimed, albeit a little loudly as they passed a row of houses.   


Finn snorted as Julian failed to stifle a bout of giggles, feeling the alcohol taking over as the fresh air finally really hit him. 

Asra skidded to a sudden stop, causing them both to stumble. “I’m serious, I love you both very much. More than anything… even _Faust_!” He frowned, shaking his head. “Don’t tell her I said that.” 

He reached up, tugging at Finn’s collar and pulling him in for a crushing kiss, strangely controlled even with his level of inebriation. Then, Asra grabbed for Julian, pulling him down, their mouths meeting. 

Finn smiled, feeling happier, _lighter_ , than he could ever remember, even as Asra turned and proceeded to expel the contents of his stomach onto the cobblestones. 


	112. Julian x Asra x m!Apprentice 9.

Julian eyed them suspiciously as they ascended upon him, both terrified and aroused at the same time. He swallowed, his head falling back into the pillows. “Is… is this even safe?”

Asra and Finn glanced at each other, smirking. Finn reached out to brush a stray curl from his forehead, his touch lingering. “Would we ever put you in danger?” 

“Well… _no_ , but I–”  


Asra silenced him by pressing a finger to his parted lips. “Ilya, trust us.” 

He frowned, but ultimately found it hard to be worried when they were both laying beside him, bare chests pressed close, so warm and comforting either side of him, just…  _safe_. 

His breath hitched as the first wave of warmth rolled over him, brushing along his ribs, down to his waist, hips, thighs. Finn was watching his face intently with a lazy grin, his palm raised and glowing a comforting orange. 

Asra groaned, watching gooseflesh spread over Julian’s skin as Finn leaned down to press his lips to Julian’s throat, sucking a bruise into his skin, followed by another, then another. 

“ _Finnegan_ …” Asra warned, his voice still warm and teasing as Finn pulled away. 

“Sorry,” Finn smirked, remembering the rules. 

_No touching._

Julian whimpered at the loss of contact, the sting of his kisses still burning upon his skin. Then, the warmth returned, curling like gentle fingers around his aching length, Asra’s magic now coming into play too, a few degrees cooler than Finn’s as it wrapped around his wrists, pinning them to the mattress. 

“Be good,” Asra purred, leaning in so their lips were mere centimeters apart. His gaze flickered up, meeting Finn’s, and they came together with a kiss, the sight of it driving Julian mad, both of them so beautiful above him.   


“ _Please_ …”   


They parted, returning to the task in hand, Finn’s fingers twitching with power as his magic began to stroke Julian’s length, the feel of it intoxicating, _strange._  

It didn’t take them long to unmake him, working in tandem to exploit his weaknesses, phantom claws etching long marks upon his chest, a ghostly touch running up the inside of his thighs. 

He fisted the sheets, very conscious of the gold and violet eyes that were hungrily trained on him, both Asra and Finn breathing heavily, lost in the way he was falling apart. 

The second he was finished, two sets of hands were upon him, touching as if they’d never touched him before, lips at his throat, jaw, cheek. 

His eyes rolled back in his head as he let them devour him, completely at their mercy, always and forever. 


	113. Julian x m!Apprentice 60.

Finn rolled his eyes as another rather pathetic and drawn-out groan came from the bedroom. He quickly poured the tea he had brewed into a mug and hurried up the stairs.

He couldn’t help but laugh as he laid eyes on Julian, the man was, frankly, a _terrible_ patient. 

He’d flung all the blankets onto the floor, along with his clothes, and lay in the foetal position, knees clutched to his chest. His hair was an unruly nest of red curls, haphazardly sticking up in any and all directions, pale skin covered in a sheen of sweat. 

Finn put the mug on the nightstand, sitting beside him and tentatively reaching out to place a hand to his forehead, brushing his hair aside to release a small burst of cooling magic onto overheated skin. 

Julian dramatically winced, before unfolding himself and laying flat on his back, humming gratefully at the temporary relief Finn’s magic granted him. “Am I in heaven?”

Finn snorted, reaching down to tug a sheet over his naked form. “Not quite yet.” 

Julian’s eye fluttered open, a smirk playing at his lips. “I must be, only _angels_ are as beautiful as you,” he purred, long fingers sliding up Finn’s thigh suggestively. 

Maybe the tea he’d been pouring down his throat had been a bit strong? 

Finn laughed, grabbing his wrist to still the movement before he got a little _too_ friendly. He placed Julian’s hand back under the sheet, leaning in to press a kiss to his clammy forehead. “You need to rest, my love, _not_ play.” 

Julian defiantly raised strong arms above his head, stretching deliciously, muscles twitching and tensing. He sighed breathily, gripping the headboard and raising his eyebrow suggestively. “Oh, come on. It might make me feel better, you know…” 

Finn swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry as his eyes raked over Julian’s tempting, albeit a bit shiny form. Julian noticed his hesitation and grinned, raising his leg to kick off the sheet that covered his waist. “ _Fiiii-nnn_ …” 

The sing-song lilt of his voice snapped Finn out of his daze, shaking his head as he quickly stood from the bed, adjusting his trousers where they’d grown a little tight. “Absolutely not. Mainly because I don’t want to be cursed with whatever flu you’ve got. Now… sleep!” 

He rushed out of the room, ignoring Julian’s profane protests, closing the door and slumping against it. 

He proceeded to spend the entire afternoon trying to push thoughts of ravishing his stricken boyfriend out of his head.


	114. Field Medic Julian + Merc Lucio Part 1.

Julian practically fell off his stool as the curtains to the tent flew open, a gaggle of yelling, bloodied mercenaries flooding in and swarming him. His eyes grew wide as he saw who they’d carried in. He tried to claw back some composure as piercing, grey eyes fixed on his, stealing the breath from his lungs.

  
He swallowed thickly, his throat suddenly very, very dry. One of Lucio’s men grabbed him, dirty fingers digging _hard_ into his forearm as they dragged him to the bunk. “You _are_ a doctor, aren’t you?” The man hissed, blood pouring from a gash on his eyebrow, half of his teeth missing or cracked.

  
Julian nodded and took a deep breath, snatching his arm from his grip. “Can you give me some space. Two people can stay, the rest of you _out_.”

  
A low rumble of protests filled the tent, until a shrill, yet commanding voice cut through the noise. “You heard him, out!”  
They hushed immediately, eyes on the ground as they shuffled outside. As they filtered out, Julian could finally get a good look at the infamous Lucio, and immediately felt sick. The nurse at his side gasped loudly, and Lucio laughed, a manic, unhinged sound.

  
“What’s the matter darling? I know I’m handsome, but you must compose yourself.”

  
Julian took a tentative step closer, eyeing the two mercinaries that still flanked the bunk. “Hold him down,” he murmured.  
The damage was extensive, irreparable even if Julian truly knew what he was doing. His arm was hanging on by a literal thread, the flesh and muscle completely torn at the shoulder, even the bone was damaged.

  
Lucio was delirious, and Julian didn’t know how he hadn’t blacked out, clearly running on adrenaline. He sneered at Julian, reaching up to fist at his shirt with his good hand, sweat beading at his brow, skin deathly pale.

  
“Are you going to just stand there, or are you going to _fucking_ fix this? I have to get back out there and fight.”

  
Julian turned to the nurse. “Get the saw.” 

Her eyes widened in horror, but she nodded and did as she was told, scuttling off and returning with the sharp instrument and a bottle of alcohol.

  
Lucio threw his head back, another bout of manic laughter erupting from his throat, cut off by a violent cough, blood trickling down his chin. “Are you joking? You won’t touch me with that thing,” he snarled, his breath becoming laboured, eyes distant. “I’ll kill you, and I won’t make it quick. Do you like to suffer, Doctor…”

  
“Devorak. Doctor Julian Devorak.”

  
Lucio smirked, pathetically attempting to shake free of his comrades grip where they pinned him to the bunk, the nurse shaking as she pressed a needle into his forearm. He tried to swat at her, Julian grabbing his arm _tight_.

  
“Oh, stronger than you look, aren’t you,” he purred, fluttering his eyelashes at Julian, his hips rutting up off the bed. “Come on, Doctor Jules, show me how strong you really are.”

  
Julian sighed, rolling his eyes, officially done with the insufferable wretch’s _shit_. “The arm is coming off, or you’re going to die,” he said, clear, concise. “You could still die, in fact, but I’m going to at least try and prevent that. So… stay still.”

  
Before Lucio could protest, Julian shoved a leather strap in his mouth. “You’ll want to bite down on that. I can’t wait for you to pass out, this is happening now.”

  
Lucio didn’t seem to truly hear him, instead quirking his eyebrows, seemingly satisfied with the way Julian was manhandling him, groaning with delight as Julian roughly pushed the strap in his mouth.

  
The two mercenaries looked like they were about to pass out as Julian poured alcohol over the wound, a blood-curdling scream tearing from Lucio’s throat as he struggled against their grips. “If you’re going to throw up I suggest you leave and find someone with a stronger stomach to help,” Julian hissed.

  
They shook their heads, simply closing their eyes and turning away as Julian gripped the saw. He glanced over at the nurse who nodded, helping to hold Lucio’s legs down as he continued to thrash.

  
Julian took a deep breath, placing the blade upon the ruined bone, and began to saw. The sound was like nothing he’d ever heard, that mixed with the inhuman noises Lucio was making almost drove him mad, feeling like it would never end.

He was strong, but bone was stronger.

  
He was grateful when Lucio passed out, shocked he’d managed to last as long as he did. When the gnarled limb finally fell away, Julian quickly scrambled to tend to the wound, his work not nessecarily pretty, but potentially live-saving nonetheless.

  
When he was done, and satisfied Lucio may actually survive, he fell to the ground, hands shaking, brow dripping with sweat. His arms were stained crimson up to his elbows, and he felt lightheaded, trying to push away the urge to expel the contents of his stomach all over his boots.

  
He stayed on the floor beside the bunk for hours waiting for Lucio to wake up. When he did, a strange kind of relief washed over him, that was until Lucio was conscious enough to realise that he was short a limb.

  
After he’d calmed down, which took… a while, Lucio made a promise that chilled Julian to the bone, a promise that made him want to run and never look back, to make sure he never crossed paths with this monster as long as he lived.

  
“I may not kill you now, but one day when you least expect it, I will find you, and you will pay.”


	115. Field Medic Julian + Merc Lucio Part 2.

Julian winced as an unidentified flying object hit the back of his head, followed by a shrill screech that could only possibly come from his least favorite patient. 

“Get me painkillers you complete and utter  _hack!_ ”  


He rubbed the back of his head, his fingers coming away bloody. He closed his eyes, counting to ten as the harsh sting of pain slowly settled into a dull ache. “You’ve had more than what I consider a safe dose for the morning, unless you want to die, I-”

“Dying would be better than this! I’m _suffering_ , and it’s all because of you!” Lucio groaned, getting more ridiculous by the hour, if such a thing were possible.   


The nurse eyed Julian, her lips twitching into a smirk. He couldn’t help but smile back, stifling a laugh. For all of his many flaws, Lucio had certainly provided them much needed entertainment with his dramatics.

Another pathetic groan filled the tent, swiftly followed by a bottle being launched at Julian’s feet, hitting the ground with a crash. Julian sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose as yet another Lucio-induced headache took hold. 

He rose from his desk slowly, pulling on his gloves and reluctantly heading for the wounded mercenary. He truly did look awful, his skin deathly pale and covered in a permanent sheen of sweat, though Julian was sure an infection hadn’t set in. The wound had begun to heal nicely, as messy as his stitches were, the man was _alive,_ and that in itself was a bloody miracle, or a curse…

Lucio sneered at him, lips curled over perfectly white teeth. “You did this to me. You’ll pay, you know.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll  _‘tremble in fear at the very sight of you’._ I’ve heard it all before Lucio, it’s getting rather boring now,” Julian sighed, the threat seeming emptier with how often he said it. He pressed Lucio back down onto the bunk, palm firmly splayed on his chest. “Stay still.”   


Lucio’s expression turned into something less angry and more… lustful. “Oh Doctor, you _do_ like pinning me, don’t you?” 

The man changed his mood like the weather, and Julian rolled his eyes as he groaned a little _too_ enthusiastically as he gently pressed down on the injured shoulder. 

“You are very pretty you know, possibly the prettiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on, and I’ve _laid_ many,” he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.  


Julian couldn’t help but flush, not from the compliment, but from the mans complete disregard of his own dignity. He pressed harder on his shoulder, digging his fingers into the reddened flesh by means of punishment. Lucio cried out, his demeanor changing once again. 

“Stop that! Are you trying to _kill_ me? Nurse!”   


The nurse barely looked up from her patient, sighing and shaking her head before returning to her stitches. 

“ _I’m_ your doctor, Lucio. Like it or not you’re stuck with me for a little while longer. Now, shut up and go to sleep, you’ll feel better for it,” he smiled, patting him on his good shoulder and pulling the sheet up over his torso.   


“I’ll snap your neck and feed you to my dogs you know!”  


“You don’t _have_ dogs, Lucio, and snapping my neck with one arm might prove difficult.”   


Julian couldn’t help but smile as he ducked another flying object. 


	116. Field Medic Julian + Merc Lucio Part 3.

Julian walked into the tent, the sound of woeful screaming still rattling around in his head, sending shivers down his spine. He took one look at himself in the tiny, cracked mirror and closed his eyes, the blood thick, _caked_ on his face, hands, just… everywhere.

As if his day hadn’t been bad enough, as if he wasn’t already about to break down into tears, an all too familiar voice came from behind him. 

“Well, if it isn’t my favourite hack.” 

His head jerked up, eyes wide and wild as he spun to see Lucio walking towards him sporting a rather questionable wooden arm. “Lucio,” he said, as politely as he could muster. 

Lucio immediately crowded his personal space, so close he could feel his warm breath on his face. Julian leaned back against the desk, white-knuckling as he gripped its edge. He tried to stay calm, but that promise he’d made all those months ago didn’t seem so empty now, not as he stood before him, full of life, full of strength. 

_I may not kill you now, but one day when you least expect it, I will find you, and you will pay._

Lucio’s lips twisted into a snarled smile, teeth bared and murky grey eyes sparkling with something mischievous. “How are you, my dearest Doctor? I hope you’ve been keeping well? You look… well, you look awful, frankly.”

He reached up to run a cold, calloused finger down Julian’s cheek, grimacing when his digit cane away covered in blood.

“Fine, thank you,” Julian nodded, annoyed with how shaky his voice sounded. “What can I uhh… what can I do for you, Lucio?” 

Lucio scanned his face, frowning. “You can’t _do_ much of anything, can you?” He sighed, finally stepping away, looking down at his unmoving wooden limb with disdain. “I mean, other than ruin people’s lives, it would seem.” 

Julian shook his head, his brow furrowed, frustration beginning to mount. “No.” 

Lucio bristled, quickly stepping close, too close, and fisting Julian’s shirt. “What do you mean _’no’_? Look at what you did to me! I should squeeze the life from you right here, burn your body until there’s nothing left, not a damn trace!” 

Julian turned his head away, dropping his gaze to the floor, cheeks blooming red. “I… I _saved_ you.” 

Lucio paused, his breath heavy, panting. He dropped his grip, turning his back to Julian. “You may think that, but I don’t.” 

Julian exhaled sharply, waiting for his heartbeat to steady before he could speak again. “I’m sorry, I am, but you would have died had I not taken the limb. It’s a fact, undeniable.”

Lucio didn’t turn to look at him again, slowly walking towards the exit, steps steady, sure. He paused. “Never forget what I promised. It still stands.”

And with that, he was gone. 


	117. Julian + Lucio 1.

Julian took a deep breath, nodding to the guards to push open the garish gilded doors.

A bottle smashed at his feet as he stepped into the red room, the glass crunching under his shoes as he made his way towards the bed, ignoring the garbled string of curses as he approached. 

He grimaced as he laid eyes upon Lucio, the Count’s condition having deteriorated far faster than Julian could have anticipated. 

Lucio’s skin was grey, his eyes sunken and a brighter shade of vivid scarlet than the dull red they’d been just a week ago. 

Julian closed his eyes as he sat on the soft mattress, the rattle in Lucio’s chest as he breathed laboured, numbered breaths causing gooseflesh to bloom across his arms. 

He’d failed him, which meant he’d failed them all. 

He felt cold, trembling fingers curl around his wrist, his eyes catching Lucio’s deadly gaze. The Count sneered, looking far less like a human and more like a corpse. “It had to be you, didn’t it. The one who took my arm, now the one who kills me off once and for all.”

Julian stood quickly, tearing himself free from Lucio’s weak grip. “The plague is killing you, Lucio, not I.”

“You were supposed to cure me, why else are you still here?” Lucio scoffed, weakly pushing away the luxurious sheets that covered his skeletal frame, his golden prosthetic glimmering in the candlelight. “I always said you were a useless hack, a waste of flesh and blood.”

He carefully rose, his nightshirt hanging off him like a child who’d put on his fathers clothes. 

Julian stepped back until he was pressed against the wall, Lucio looking up at him through messy, dull blonde hair. He reached up, golden fingers curling around Julian’s throat, the enchantment glowing red, hissing as he clutched tighter. 

Julian grabbed at his arm, gasping for breath as the Count seemingly attempted to squeeze the life out of him, unable to keep his hold on Julian as he began to cough violently, blood splattering the back of his hand. 

It was… pathetic. Julian almost pitied him. 

Almost. 

Lucio stumbled, turning his back to Julian, a broken laugh falling from cracked lips. “I swear a curse was placed upon me the moment I laid eyes on you. What a failure you are, _Doctor_. You and your little smart-mouthed witch.”

Julian opened his mouth to speak, only to be interrupted by the distant sounds of screaming, pained wails and cries drifting from down the hallway. 

Lucio turned to face him again, a satisfied, crooked smirk plastered on his face. “If I’m going to die, then so will they.”

Julian’s eyes grew wide, bile rising in his throat. “No…”

He ran, ran as fast as he could. The smell was the worst part, the sickening, smoky _burn_ that filled his nostrils as he drew nearer to the balcony. 

He skidded to a stop, Asra turning to stare at him for a second, tawny cheeks streaked with tears, his hands shaking at his sides. 

Thats when Julian saw it. His worst fears made reality. 

In the distance against the blackened horizon, orange flames licked and swirled high up into the starry night sky. The screaming was far away, nothing but a whisper, but he could still feel it in his bones. 

Julian stepped forward, joining the rest of the crowd that had gathered to watch the place where many of their loved ones were now burning. 

Everything they’d worked for, every promise they’d made… gone. 

He laced his fingers together with Asra’s, squeezing tight, as tight as he could as his own tears began to fall hot down his cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m so _sorry_.”

He vaguely registered Asra shaking his head beside him, his voice breaking as he addressed Julian. “He’ll pay. If it’s the last thing I do, he’ll pay.” 


	118. Asra x Julian 10.

Julian reluctantly pulled himself from his makeshift bed on the library floor. The various pillows still smelling like Asra, making it all the more difficult to tear himself away.

His head was thrumming, no doubt the beginnings of a particularly nasty migraine. He’d been getting them a lot lately, the late nights hunched over his desk obsessing over a cure certainly not helping.

He rubbed his eyes, struggling to blink away that early morning blur, his vision annoyingly hazy, unclear. He sighed, pulling on his crumpled shirt and not bothering to do up the buttons as he sorted through the notes he’d made last night, each theory as ridiculous as the next.

An hour passed before Asra arrived, the witch late as always, but quickly redeeming himself as a serving girl followed him in with a steaming pot of coffee. “Morning Ilya.”

Julian gazed up into those bright, violet eyes, his heart skipping a beat when Asra returned his smile. “Did you rest well?”

Asra nodded, vaguely studying a page of Julian’s ineligible scribbles. He frowned, squinting as he tried to decipher the dreadful script. “And you?”

Julian huffed a laugh, stretching his arms high above his head, a thrill sparking through him as Asra’s eyes flickered over his chest, visible between his still unbuttoned shirt. He flushed,  _of course,_ and proceeded to rub his eyes, still cloudy and starting to become a bit of an inconvenience. “You know me, I’m not one for rest.”

A loud  _crash_  startled him, Asra’s cup breaking into tiny pieces as it hit to floor. Julian rushed to his side immediately, grabbing his wrist, pressing long fingers to his pulse. It was racing,  _panicking_. “Asra! What is it? Are you hurt?”

His eyes were wide, wild and brimming with tears. He shook away Julian’s grip, reaching up with both hands to cup Julian’s face. “Oh,  _Ilya,”_ he whispered, voice choked, shaking _._

Julian had never seen him cry before, still noticing through the panic how  _beautiful_  he was.

Asra carefully brushed his thumb just below Julian’s right eye, the more blurry of the two, and a terrible thought crossed Julian’s mind.

“No…” he mumbled, shaking his head, forcefully grabbing Asra’s wrists and holding them away from his face. He shook his head again, running to his desk to grab the small, cracked mirror he kept in one of his drawers.

He raised the damaged glass, his breath catching in his throat as he stared at himself, his right iris encircled with vivid red, the rest of his sclera a murky, faded pink. It was spreading outwards, an eerily beautiful watercolour, the thinnest tendrils of scarlett snaking, swirling.

He dropped the mirror, gripping the edge of his desk, lest he fall to his knees. He was shaking, unable to move, speak,  _think_.

How?  _How_  had this happened? He’d taken every precaution, being  _overly_ cautious with every step. His cheeks were wet, streaked with tears as Asra wrapped warm arms around his waist, resting his chin upon Julian’s shoulder.

Asra held him as he crumbled stroking his hair, kissing his cheeks, whispering that everything would be okay, that they’d  _fix_  this.

No matter what it takes.


	119. Julian x Asra x m!Apprentice 10.

 

Julian clamped his hand over his mouth, stifling an embarrassing whine as Finn pushed inside, Asra’s breath hot in his ear as he whispered things that would make anyone blush. 

Asra’s hands were in his hair, tugging just a shade too tight, knowing  _exactly_ how Julian liked it as Finn lazily thrust into him, turning his head to press a kiss to his knee where his leg was hitched high over his shoulder. 

Julian melted into Asra’s touch, his breath quick and panting as he finally adjusted to the feel of being filled, that quick burst of pain now blooming into blinding pleasure. 

Finn choked-back a moan, his chin falling to his chest as he picked up his pace, hands travelling down, _down_  Julian’s shamelessly spread thighs to rest upon his hips, calloused fingertips digging in hard enough to bruise. 

Asra pressed a quick kiss to Julian’s mouth, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth, sucking gently before licking away the sting. He turned his head to look at Finn, his lips still just a breath away. “Is that good, Ilya?“

Julian nodded, unable to form words as that familiar, delicious heat bloomed in the pit of his stomach, his hips arching up off the mattress to meet Finn’s thrusts, filled to the brim but  _aching_  for more. 

Finn dug his fingers in harder, pushing him down, pinning him to the bed with an assertive growl. “Still,  _fuck_ … stay  _still_.” 

Asra chuckled, shaking his head as he began to trace circles in the smattering of hair upon Julian’s flushed chest, walking his fingers down, lower,  _lower_  until he was curling them around Julian’s aching length. “Is this what you want, Ilya? You want me to touch you? Say it…” 

Julian gasped as Finn hit that perfect spot, the sensation blinding,  _scorching_  hot to the point where his toes curled, his fingers grabbing desperately at the sheets, for  _anything_  to ground him. 

Finn reached out, carding his fingers through Asra’s hair and pulling him close, Julian whimpering as he watched them kiss, both of them so devastatingly beautiful and  _his_  that he could barely stand it. 

“Yes,” he managed, his voice broken, wrecked. “I want you to touch me,  _please_ …” 

Finn released his hold on Asra, nodding at the witch as he sought permission with a questioning glance, Asra’s hand returning to grip Julian’s length, stroking him languidly. His tongue darted out to chase the taste of Finn that lingered on his lips, Finn’s golden eyes blown-black as he watched both the place where he and Julian connected and the delicate glide of Asra’s fist. 

“Close,” Finn mumbled, the word coming out broken, rumbling deep in his chest as he groaned. 

They were experts at this game, precise in their actions as they worked in tandem to unmake Julian, the pleasure they got from watching him fall apart by their hands greater than anything else. 


	120. Julian x m!Apprentice 61.

There really was nothing better than waking up next to Julian.

There was something ethereal about him in the mornings. Maybe it was the way the soft, amber glow of sunrise peeked through gauzy curtains, always hitting his vivid, auburn curls perfectly, leaving him bathed in an otherworldly glow. 

Finn always struggled to resist reaching out to brush his fingers over the imperfect ridge of his aquiline nose, wanting to carefully count and kiss every tiny freckle that littered it. Julian’s unfairly long eyelashes atop lightly flushed cheeks as his eyelids danced in his dreams. 

He looked peaceful in a way he never could when he was awake, walking around with the weight of the world on broad shoulders day in and day out, but now, like this, he was content. 

He was, quite simply, devastating, and the best part was that he didn’t even  _know_. 

Finn stretched, his joints clicking into their rightful place as he sidled up to Julian’s warm, naked form. He’d resisted long enough, smiling to himself as he ghosted clever fingers down Julian’s arm, watching him shudder and stir into the waking world. 

“Good morning, handsome.” 

Julian’s eyes slowly opened, his nose crinkling as he adjusted to the harsh light of day. He hummed gratefully, edging closer to Finn and tangling their legs together, relishing in that skin-on-skin contact that had been lost . 

With bodies flush and noses brushing, Finn surged forward to close the unbearable gap between them, the kiss searing,  _scalding_  hot in an instant, breaths catching as they both clambered for anything the other could give. 

Every time they kissed like this, Finn felt like he was drowning, his thoughts shattering, the overwhelming mix of taste, touch,  _feel_ as Julian moaned against his lips, both of them aching for more, more,  _more._  

Julian pushed long, elegant fingers into raven hair, before trailing his touch down along the sharp line of Finn’s lightly stubbled jaw, down,  _down_  over his muscled chest to trace each dip and curve.

He tipped his head back as Finn pressed a kiss to the hollow of his throat, sucking claiming bruises into pale skin, Julian gratefully arching against him. 

Finn was turned on and turned around as Julian bared himself to him, so beautifully submissive, shivering in the safety of Finn’s arms. He turned his head, desperately seeking the warmth of Finn’s kiss once more.

They broke apart, both of them panting, chests heaving as Finn cupped a big hand to Julian’s cheek, Julian placing his own hand on top, lacing their fingers together and turning to press a kiss to the center of Finn’s palm before nuzzling into his touch, practically purring with satisfaction.  

Golden eyes met silver, and everything else fell away around them. 

A soft smile twitched at Julian’s kiss-reddened lips, a smile that said  _‘Take everything I have, I am yours.’_


	121. Julian x m!Apprentice 62.

“Stay still.” 

“How can I when you’re writhing around on top of me like that? It’s very distracting.  _You’re_  very distracting.” 

Julian ignored him, continuing to stitch a rather nasty gash on Finn’s shoulder. Finn had refused to let him use the curse to fix the wound, and he was pleasantly surprised with how steady his hands still were. 

It may have had something to do with the fact that he liked (loved) Finn quite a lot, and the thought of him being covered in ghastly, uneven scars made his skin crawl. “I’m not trying to be distracting, I’m trying to fix you. Now, keep your hands to yourself.” 

Finn ignored him, the stubborn  _ass_.

His hands continued to wander, fingers tracing a trail over Julian’s hips, up his sides, then over his ribs. Julian shuddered, annoyed that he was so easily flustered, his cheeks  _hot_  and definitely turning an embarrassing shade of pink. 

“ _Finnegan_. This is the last time I will ask you. Stay.  _Still!_ ”

Finn chuckled, frustratingly beautiful as his lips twitched into a mischievous grin. He cupped a big palm to Julian’s cheek, gazing up at him with wide, golden eyes. “I love you when you’re angry. It’s adorable.” 

Julian carefully tied off the final stitch and sat back to admire his handiwork. He closed his eye as one of those wonderful wandering hands pushed into his hair, clever fingers curling and gently tugging at the auburn strands. “I’m not adorable, I’m  _terrifying_ , I’ll have you know,” he pouted, trying, and failing, to suppress a smile. 

Finn propped himself up onto his elbows, infuriatingly handsome and _inviting_  as he lowered his voice to a mere whisper. “You might have to show me how terrifying you can be, just so I’m sure.” 

Julian gave in, helplessly radiating towards him as he leaned in with a grin to press their lips together, warmth blooming in his chest as Finn pulled him down onto the mattress.

 

 


	122. Asra x Julian 11.

“I just wanted to say that… that I’m sorry, and I know how much it must have hurt and, uhh… god, Asra. I’m trying, I really am, to be better, and I hope… I  _hope_ …”

Asra stopped Julian’s words with a kiss. A kiss that was perhaps not the best idea, but shit, if it didn’t feel  _right_.

It was inevitable, and they’d been tumbling towards this moment for what felt like forever.

Julian’s wide,  _wide_  eye eventually fluttered closed as he accepted his fate, sinking into the kiss with ease, grace. His long fingers grabbing at Asra’s shirt, pulling him closer.

Asra smiled softly as he reluctantly pulled away, the gentle, dreamy puff of Julian’s breath warm and sweet against his cheek.

All these years trying to decipher what they’d had, what it had meant, when really all he needed was the simple rightness of brushing their lips together to know how  _this_  is how it was always supposed to be.

Asra reached for his hand, their fingers interlocking perfectly. “Let’s start again, shall we? Just… from scratch.”

A devilish grin crossed Julian’s lips, his eyebrow quirked in that ridiculous way that only he could pull off. He was so beautiful, and Asra couldn’t help but laugh.

Asra’s lips found Julian’s once more, feeling dizzy,  _drowning_  in the sensation.

It was the only answer he needed, his fingers sinking into messy, auburn hair, Julian’s tall frame edging ever closer, both of them practically vibrating as each kiss melted into another.

_And another, and another…_


	123. Julian x m!Apprentice 63.

There was nothing like this feeling, the feeling of being touched,  _wanted_ , like you’re the most important thing in the universe.

The hot, panting breath of the person you love in your ear, whispering your name like a prayer as you move together, clothes hurriedly pushed aside, messily unbuttoned in the heat of the moment as you claw to feel even just an inch each other’s skin.

There was also nothing like your little sister walking in on you while your boyfriend thrusted you into the wall he had you hitched up against, or so Julian discovered.

“Oh my…  _sorry!_ ” Portia squeaked, her hands quickly flying to cover her flushed red ( _bright_  red) face as she stumbled backwards and out of the room.

Finn growled against Julian’s shoulder, reluctantly releasing him from his death-grip, hissing as they parted. Julian fumbled to pull up his trousers, fiddling with his crumpled shirt in an attempt to make himself look half presentable.

“I didn’t… I should have knocked. Oh my  _god_ ,” Portia mumbled, mortified.

Julian looked up at Finn, a plea in his gaze. Finn nodded, already looking unfairly well put-together, especially considering he’d just had what was promised to be a mind-blowing orgasm swiftly pulled from his grasp. “Just… wait here.”

Julian nodded, sliding down the wall in dismay.

“Portia?”

Her head snapped up, face still burning red as wide eyes flickered over Finn’s partially clothed form. She poorly stifled a giggle, a stray auburn curl falling free from her headscarf as her shoulders shook. “Finn. I’m… oh boy. I’m  _so_  sorry.”

He smiled, shrugging casually. “It’s fine, I mean, it’s our fault, really. Maybe we should uhh… lock our door?”

She nodded quickly, still trying, and failing, to look anywhere other than his bare (and sweaty) torso. “I… uhm. I just came by to see how Ilya’s doing,” she grinned, clearing her throat. “But it would appear he’s just fine. Great, in fact, so… I’ll be going?”

They both tried not to laugh as a rather pathetic, pained groan came from the next room, Portia winking playfully as she waved goodbye. “Bye Ilya!”

Finn found Julian in the foetal position, knees tightly tucked against his chest. “We’re never having sex again.”

Finn snorted, offering him his hand. “Yeah, we’ll see how long  _that_  lasts.”


	124. Asra x Julian 13.

Asra was perched on the corner of Julian’s desk, cross-legged and mindlessly flicking through piles upon piles of crumpled parchment. There was no point in trying to decipher Julian’s ineligible handwriting, but the little sketches he did around his notes were rather charming.

Clearly, Asra was bored.

Julian looked up at him through long lashes, dropping his quill and flopping back in his chair dramatically. “This is pointless, all of it. Just… nonsense!” He huffed, waving his hand in the general direction of the desk dismissively.

Asra shrugged, glancing over at the huge, ornate clock that hung above the library door. “It’s nearly time for you to check on our beloved Count, maybe his cheerful disposition will inspire you to make a breakthrough.”

Julian scoffed, eyeing Asra appreciatively as he uncrossed his legs. Julian edged forward, placing his palms flat upon Asra’s thighs, stroking up, up,  _up_.

Asra tensed, trying to hide the full-body shudder that rolled over him as Julian brushed over his hips, stopping to grip his waist. “Ilya…” he warned, knowing exactly where this would lead, and knowing how he was too weak to stop it.

Still, he could pretend, if only for a moment, if only to see that flicker of determination in pretty silver eyes.

Julian bit his bottom lip, a light pink flush painting his freckled cheeks as he tugged at the waistband of Asra’s trousers. “Oh, come on. Please? I’ll be good.”

Asra took a deep, careful breath, still desperately clinging to his resolve, now hanging on by a mere thread. He wasn’t doing a very good job of hiding his arousal, Julian’s hungry gaze fixed firmly upon the prominent outline of his erection.

He nodded slowly, granting Julian permission, hissing as deft fingers curled around his length, stroking him gently, almost sensually.

Julian watched intently, focused on the point where he gripped him before he leaned in an laved his tongue over the crown. He whimpered as he tasted him, his flushed cheeks a deep crimson now, eyes fluttering closed, blissful as he took him further into his mouth.

Asra gripped the edge of the desk, white-knuckling as his hips helplessly bucked up into that tight, wet heat, seeking more, more,  _more_.

Julian hummed as he sank lower, taking more of him in, as much as he could manage before his eyes began to water. He pulled away with a slick  _pop_ , gently kissing the glistening tip, glancing up at Asra, eyes hooded, pupils blown-black.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Asra whispered, reaching down to cup his palm to Julian’s jaw, smirking as he traced his thumb along his cheek, feeling himself pushing inside as Julian sank down once again. “So good, Ilya. You’re so good to me.”

Julian hummed again, the vibration rocking through Asra, shaking him to his core. He groaned, unable to hide how  _good_  Julian was making him feel.

He pushed his hand into auburn curls, messy strands snarling about his fingers as he held on, tugging gently. “Ilya, I’m going to… you’re going to make me come.”

Julian nodded, lips still wrapped around his cock, head bobbing, his rhythm building,  _blinding_. An appreciative moan rumbled in his chest as Asra tugged at his hair again, harder this time, guiding him, a delicious push and pull as he encouraged Julian to go faster, to help him chase that sweet finish.

Asra’s toes curled as Julian finally tipped him over the edge, his veins turning to liquid fire as his orgasm took hold. He clawed at Julian’s neck, shoulders, gripping for leverage as a white-hot heat burst behind his eyelids. He cried out, shuddering as Julian greedily swallowed down everything he gave him, every last drop.

Julian pulled away with a gasp as he tried to catch his breath, lips deliciously swollen, reddening. He was a sight to behold, stunningly dishevelled and debauched, panting and grinning as he met Asra’s violet gaze. “Thank you.”

Asra bit his lip, unable to resist leaning in to press their mouths together, tasting himself on Julian’s tongue. He pulled away ever so slightly, just a breath away, smiling as he ran his thumb over Julian’s bottom lip. “No, Ilya, thank  _you_.”


	125. Julian x m!Apprentice 64.

They collapsed in the grass, Julian fidgeting to get comfortable as Finn lounged beside him, mindlessly picking at a small patch of daisies.

It was a beautiful day, the vast palace grounds the perfect place for them to escape, to enjoy the outdoors for once. Julian always complained that they lived their lives in the shadows because of him, and that Finn deserved to see the sun sometimes.

Now, as they lay staring up at said sun, Julian didn’t seem all too pleased about it.

Finn reached out, brushing their fingertips together as a light breeze caught Julian’s curls, the vivid strands swirling about his cheeks before settling messily.

When their gazes met, Julian flushed (of course), before crinkling his nose in distaste. “I take it back, I much prefer you in the darkness. Take me home.”

Finn snorted. “Stop being dramatic. It’s a lovely day, and you’re seeing this through. It was  _your_  idea.”

Julian sighed dramatically, accepting his fate and folding his palms atop his stomach, staring up at the blue,  _blue_  sky.

Finn studied him for a moment, appreciating the light pink hue of his sun-warmed skin, how it brought out his freckles, made his hair seem brighter and more beautiful than ever.

Warmth bloomed in his chest as Julian smiled at a passing bluebird, quickly fixing his lips back into a thin line when he realised Finn had caught him. “Shut up. Nature is terrible.  _You’re_  terrible.”

Finn rolled his eyes, sitting up and moving to lean over Julian, his hands pressing into the grass either side of his head. Julian’s cheeks flushed (again) immediately, his silver eye growing wide as Finn leaned in to brush their noses together.

“Would a kiss make the ‘terrible’ field, and ‘terrible’ company seem less, well…  _terrible_?”

Julian cleared his throat, failing to stop his voice coming out husky, broken. “I uhh… I suppose it may help. Maybe. If the kiss is good.”

Finn smirked as Julian gave up on the facade, his eyebrow quirking and that ridiculous grin crossing his lips. “There you are,” Finn laughed, closing the gap between them to press their lips together.

Julian quite enjoyed the sunshine after that.


	126. Julian x m!Apprentice 65.

Julian shouldn’t have been shocked when big,  _firm_  hands grabbed him as he walked into the tiny storeroom. Desperate lips were on his throat within seconds, nipping, sucking, biting and marking him in any way possible.

“Stay still,” Finn growled, and something about the rough warning note in his voice suddenly made Julian’s trousers very,  _very_  tight.

Julian made a helpless noise, his hips instinctively arching up against the hard lines of Finn as rough fingers snarled amongst his auburn curls, tugging  _hard_  as he pressed him back against the wooden shelving. Bottles and jars of herbs and potions rattled in protest as Julian clawed to drag himself against Finn, mindlessly trying to seek the friction his body so desperately craved.

“Julian,” he mumbled in warning, teeth tugging at his earlobe as he caught Julian’s wrists, pinning them above his head. The rough way Finn handled him pulled a helpless moan from his lips, his legs feeling weak as he was driven crazy by pure, unadulterated  _need_.

“You won’t say a word, and you won’t move an inch unless I make you. Got it?”

“Fuck…  _yes_ ,” Julian whimpered, making a mental note to thank whoever, or whatever had put Finn in this mood later.

The sudden thrust of Finn’s hips drove him harder against the shelving, bottles breaking around them. Heat pooled deep in the pit of his stomach as Finn turned him around to press his face against the shelves, deft hands fumbling to pull his trousers down, letting them pool around his ankles.

Finn gathered Julian’s wrists in one big hand, keeping him restrained as he reached down to run a slick digit along his entrance, pressing one, then two inside as he whispered filthy, promises in his ear.

“Please,” Julian begged,  _squirming_ , thrusting back against calloused fingers that curled perfectly inside him. “I need…”

Finn pinned him harder, the weight of his broad body pressing against him. “I know exactly what you  _need_ ,” he hissed, that angry, delicious edge still rumbling in his words.

Julian shuddered, feeling exposed like a raw nerve, trembling and pathetic, wanting to fall to his knees and  _beg_  for Finn to take him, take everything.

When Finn finally pushed inside, Julian swore he could hear angels singing, the ridiculous thought turning to smoke as that searing mix of pleasure and pain rolled over him as Finn sheathed himself to the hilt.

Finn released his wrists, digging his fingers into Julian’s hips instead, pulling and pushing him with purpose. His thrusts were needy and quick, and Julian was  _so close_  already that if Finn didn’t touch him soon he was sure he would die.

He let his head lull back against Finn’s shoulder, submitting so beautifully that he knew Finn would find it impossible to resist pressing his lips against the pale column of his throat. He wasn’t wrong, and Finn hummed gratefully as he ran his tongue over Julian’s sweat-slicked skin, his breathing unsteady, panting as he rushed towards the end of the line.

Finn ran his hand down Julian’s stomach, trailing teasingly through the coarse hair that dipped down between the arching wings of his hips, curling talented fingers around his aching cock and  _squeezing_. The gesture was enough, enough to send Julian reeling, toppling over the edge with a helpless buck of his hips as he came with a wordless cry over Finn’s clenched fist.

“ _Yes_ ,” Finn groaned. “That was fucking beautiful.”

Julian had lost the ability to speak, simply watching Finn intently over his shoulder as his handsome face contorted with pleasure, his orgasm taking hold. Julian’s name fell from his lips over and  _over_  again like a prayer until his hips stilled, both of them shaking as they gripped at one another to stop from falling to the ground in a weightless heap.

“Hmmm,” Julian mumbled, unable to form any real words, a breathless, satisfied laugh falling from his lips.

Finn pressed his mouth to Julian’s jaw, his hand coming to rest upon his throat, the weight of his grip feeling like a promise, a wordless ‘ _mine, mine, mine_ ’.

Julian smiled, relaxing as he leaned his weight back against Finn, going limp, deliciously sated. “Yours.”


	127. Julian x m!Apprentice 66.

Finn had seen it before, many times, in fact. Though he’d never asked about it, guessing that Julian would have offered the information if it was something he wanted to discuss.

But this morning as they dried themselves off after their (joint) bath, Finn felt a little  _too_  curious.

He scrubbed at his wet hair with the fluffy towel, silently watching the ripple of muscle underneath pale,  _pale_  skin that had a rather questionable skull and crossbones etched onto it in black ink, a flowing banner beneath it with unreadable writing inside.

It sat just upon his left shoulder blade, no bigger than the size of his fist. Finn wrapped the towel around his waist, worrying his lip between his teeth as he contemplated querying it.

Julian whipped around to face him, brow furrowed and cheeks flushed from the scrutiny. “Can I help you?”

Finn cleared his throat. “Well… I hope you don’t mind me asking, but—“

“The tattoo,” Julian sighed. “Right?”

“You don’t have to tell me! I just… it’s hard not to notice it sometimes.”

Julian mumbled something unintelligible under his breath as he secured the towel around his hips, throwing Finn an exasperated look before rolling his eyes. “I’ve told you of my days on the pirate ship, have I not?”

Finn nodded, trying to hide the excitement that bubbled beneath the surface. Julian’s tales of war, stealing elephants and various other adventures always sounded too ridiculous to be true, and he secretly craved them.

“Well, long story short, this rather beautiful pirate queen took a liking to me. This is uhhh… it’s a mark of ownership, I suppose… if you can call it that?”

He awkwardly turned in the mirror, straining to look at the wonky, almost blurred black lines in his reflection.

He shrugged. “I was unconscious when she gave it to me, too much rum if I recall. I woke up in the morning with a banging headache, a burning shoulder, and her grinning at me. Quite unsettling,” he scoffed.

Finn tried to process the information, still attempting to keep his composure. “So, let me get this straight… a beautiful  _pirate queen_  fell in love with you, bedded you, and  _tattooed_  you to mark you as her own? Julian, that’s… that’s…”

“Well… when you put it that way it does sound rather silly, doesn’t it?” Julian chuckled, dreamily staring off into the distance. “She was quite nice. Very…  _enthusiastic_.”

Finn laughed, shaking his head at his blasé attitude. “You’re full of secrets, aren’t you?”

He stepped closer, catching Julian by his hips, reeling him back against his chest. Julian hummed gratefully as Finn pressed his lips to the old ink.

“You’re not jealous, are you?” Julian smirked, seemingly wishing he  _was_  jealous.

“Hmmm,” Finn mumbled, simply relishing in having him wrapped up like this. He grinned, flashing his teeth. “As long as your pirate queen doesn’t come looking to whisk you away,” he said, leaning back in to suck a bruise into his skin. “You’re  _mine_  now, she’ll have quite a fight on her hands.”

“ _Please_  don’t get me drunk and tattoo me in my sleep, Finnegan. I can practically hear the idea clomping around in your head.”

 

 


	128. Julian x m!Apprentice 67.

“I have a surprise for you.”

Julian looked up from where he sat upon the windowsill, carefully folding the corner of the page he was reading. He wiggled his eyebrow in a ridiculous, suggestive manner. “Ohhh? A  _surprise_  you say?” He lowered his voice. “Is it a  _naughty_  surprise?”

Finn huffed a laugh, shaking his head as he sank to his knees, pushing his hands up Julian’s firm thighs. “I’ve been practising for a little while, and I want to show you something.”

Julian was practically buzzing with excitement, his cheeks swirling pink, lip tugged between his teeth and silver eyes hooded.

“Stop looking at me like that. It’s  _not_  a naughty kind of surprise, you insatiable fool.”

“Aw, what a terrible shame. You look so lovely today too,” Julian sighed, leaning back against the window frame as Finn took his hands in his own, lacing their fingers together.

Finn studied the murderers brand, gently running his forefinger over the jagged ink. He frowned as he traced the messy lines, wondering how much it had hurt, how carelessly he’d been handled.

It made him sick to his stomach, made him want to hunt down the people responsible and tear them limb from limb.

Finn leaned down, pressing a kiss upon the mark, lifting his golden gaze to meet Julian’s.

Julian’s eyes were wide, his expression curious. “Wh-what are you up to?”

He tried to tug himself free of Finn’s grip, the brand always having been a point of contention, something he was embarrassed about,  _ashamed_.

“Do you trust me?”

Finn watched the way his throat bobbed as he swallowed, and smiled to reassure him.

Julian nodded slowly, squeezing Finn’s hands. “Implicitly. With my  _life_. Finn, I—”

“Just stay still.”

Julian sat forward, watching intently as Finn carefully cradled his marked hand in his palm. His eyes began to glow, liquid fire as his vision blurred and faded. He poured everything he had into the spell, unwilling to let it fail.

He heard Julian gasp as Finn’s magic washed over him, invisible tendrils curling and carefully caressing his skin like a kiss.

As the molten gold glow of Finn’s magic faded, he quickly scrambled to check if the spell had worked, an unrestrained grin crossing his lips as he gazed upon two perfect, unmarked hands. He began to laugh, unbidden in his joy.

It  _worked_.

His laughter swiftly faded as he looked up and met Julian’s tearful gaze. He quickly stood up, cupping Julian’s face in his hands. “What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?”

He began frantically searching for signs of injury, reaching out with his magic before Julian grabbed his shoulders, pulling him in for a desperate, crushing kiss.

Tears fell freely down freckled cheeks as he pulled away, pressing their foreheads together, exhaling sharply, his lips quivering. “Th- _thank you_.”

Finn let out the breath he’d been holding, grinning from ear to ear as Julian placed a quick burst of kisses all over his face.

Julian stared at the back of his hand in disbelief, the absence of the mark feeling like the start of a new life; a life of innocence,  _freedom_.

“You’ve already given me so much,” he whispered, shaking his head as he barely held himself together. “I… I don’t deserve—“

Finn swallowed his words with a greedy kiss, stealing away the uncertainty. “Shut up, just…  _shut up_.”

Julian laughed lightly, a sly smirk on his face. “I love you, so much.”


	129. Julian x m!Apprentice 68.

Finn pushed Julian into the acrid alleyway, pinning him to the damp wall. “I love to embarrass you.”

Julian huffed a laugh, blood slowly drying, covering the left side of his face, the gash already healed.

Finn pressed closer, as close as was physically possible, hard enough that the cold stone would surely be biting against Julian’s spine. He smiled as Julian whimpered, reaching up to roughly grab his chin before catching his lips in a punishing kiss.

They broke apart, Julian gasping for breath, reaching up to run his finger over his lip as if he were chasing the feeling.

Finn stepped away, studying Julian’s disheveled form for a moment. “You’re infuriating, do you know that? Getting into fights for the quick thrill of it?”

A sly look crossed Julian’s face, cheeks flushed, mussed hair a lost cause. “Oh, well… yes, yes I do know. It was fun, don’t you think?” He reached out, fisting Finn’s shirt and reeling him back in, their noses knocking.

Finn pressed his hand to the wall beside Julian’s head, leaning into him casually in a way he knew would drive Julian crazy, his leg fitting snugly between Julian’s spread thighs. “Like I said,  _infuriating_.”

Julian swallowed thickly, that weak, desperate expression crossing his face. He ran his hand down Finn’s chest, clever fingers stroking at the exposed skin as he shamelessly ground against Finn’s thigh. “Well, what are you going to do about it?”

Finn laughed, his breath hot against Julian’s cheek. He ran his nose down and along the sharp line of his jaw before swiftly pulling away, walking off and leaving Julian wrecked, trembling for contact and stuttering mumbled cursed.

After a minute or two, Julian ran to catch up with him, adjusting his ripped (straining) trousers. “Tease.”

Finn shrugged, definitely not sorry, lacing their fingers together as they continued on their little adventure.


	130. Julian x m!Apprentice 69.

Julian splayed his palm upon Finn’s chest, seeking out the reassuring, steady rhythm of his heart. He hummed, tipping his chin up to catch golden eyes staring intently, flickering over his features.

Finn smiled softly, adoringly, pressing in to brush their mouths together. Julian felt Finn’s heart flutter, still perplexed that he could have that affect on  _him_.

Finn was almost too perfect to be real, as cliche as that might sound. He was, on the surface, seemingly untouchable, but he was someone who let Julian in, let him take, touch, taste. He was everything.

 _Everything_.

Finn placed himself at Julian’s entrance, ready to push inside, to fill him to the brim, but Julian stopped him with a murmur.

“Wait!”

“What? What’s the matter?” Finn panicked, his fingers pushing into Julian’s hair, worry etched on his perfect face.

Julian bit his lip, dropping his gaze as he slowly reached up to slip the eyepatch from around his head, letting it fall to the floor.

Finn shifted closer, not a gasp, not flinching away. He’d seen it before, but not in such an intimate,  _open_  moment.

If Finn was going to give him everything, then Julian would lay himself bare. He felt exposed like a raw nerve, a deep,  _hot_  flush painting his cheeks and chest.

He nodded, and Finn finally,  _finally_  surged forward, Julian rocking up to meet him as he sheathed himself to the hilt.

Julian dragged blunt nails across Finn’s chest, clawing for purchase along all that bare skin, and Finn shuddered, dropping his head to Julian’s shoulder, planting open-mouthed kisses on sweat-slick skin. “Beautiful,” he purred, meaning it as he carded his fingers through unruly auburn locks.

He hitched Julian’s leg up around his waist, the slight change in angle a revelation. Finn caught his lower lip between his teeth, tugging, then immediately sucking away the sting.

Finn fumbled for Julian’s hand, locking their fingers together in a death grip, unmistakably possessive as he raised Julian’s hand to his lips, kissing his palm before pinning it above his head upon the soft pillow.

“C-close,” Julian whispered, arching, his back a sinuous bow as Finn’s now-stuttering hips expertly chased his finish.

Julian reached between them, curling his fingers around his length and stroking, the slick glide of it maddening, a bloom of heat blossoming at the base of his spine, unfurling and spreading warmth low in his gut as he came with Finn’s name falling from parted, panting lips.

Finn groaned at the sight of him, pulling back slightly, gazing into silver eyes, smiling as their gazes locked. “So beautiful,” he cooed, his face contorting in his pleasure as his orgasm took hold, hips pushing Julian down  _hard_  against the mattress until he finally stilled, spent and sated.

Julian reached up to push sweaty, raven hair from his face, Finn leaning into his touch, practically purring, welcoming his always-cold fingers as they swept over his forehead.

Finn pressed a careful kiss to the tip of Julian’s nose, to each of his cheeks, before finally finding his lips. He pulled away, staring into  _two_  silver eyes.

The startling, vivid crimson of his sclera mattered little to Finn, and, in that moment, Julian felt more beautiful than ever.


	131. Julian x m!Apprentice 70.

Finn spun on his heel as a low, menacing grumble echoed around them in the tunnel.

He held up his hand, illuminating Julian with his magelight. The doctor stood clutching his stomach, looking decidedly embarrassed.

“When was the last time you ate?”

Julian screwed up his nose. “Well… uhhh?”

Finn sighed, pulling out the sack that Mazelkina had shoved at him before they left. He rummaged around, finding a still-warm bundle wrapped in cheesecloth.

He took Julian’s hand and led him to a damp ledge, emptying the sacks contents and placing it upon the wet stone. “Sit.”

Julian curtseyed playfully. “Yes sir.”

Finn smiled, shaking his head as Julian chuckled to himself. “Here.”

They sat side-by-side on the sack, thighs brushing and shoulders knocking as they tucked into Mazelinka’s feast.

Julian leaned against him, warmth radiating off him as he hummed contentedly. “Thank you. You’re too good to me.”

Finn pressed a kiss into his hair. “Anything for you, my love.”


	132. Julian x m!Apprentice 71.

Julian stood in front of the mirror staring into a pair of mismatched eyes. There was something beautiful about the vivid crimson, he supposed.

Or, something utterly terrifying.

He huffed, biting back tears as he tied the eyepatch around his head, fixing it in place. A mask to hide the truth. He wanted so badly to try without it, having worked himself up to this moment for weeks. He felt like a failure; just another thing to add to the list.

A pair of warm arms snaked around his waist, and Finn rested his chin upon Julian’s shoulder, pulling him back against his broad chest.

Their gaze locked in the mirror, and Julian tried, and failed, to stop his bottom lip from quivering, traitor tears falling freely now, streaking his pale cheeks.

Finn frowned, turning his head to press a kiss to the spot just below Julian’s ear. “Please don’t cry, I hate to see you hurting.”

Julian laced their fingers together, squeezing his hand, unable to talk lest his voice break. He hated seeming weak,  _hated_  dragging Finn down into that deep, dark pit that he loved to drown himself in.

“There’s no rush, you can’t take it off whenever you feel like you’re ready, okay?”

Julian nodded, managing a smile that clearly didn’t  _quite_  manage convince Finn.

Finn sighed, grabbing Julian by the shoulders and gently spinning him to face him. He smiled, bright and beautiful. “Hey, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”

“Yes bu—“

Finn swallowed his protest with a kiss, their mouths moving together, Julian gratefully melting into his embrace.

Julian pressed his forehead to Finn’s as they broke for air. “It really doesn’t bother you?”

Finn laughed, breathy and  _gorgeous_ , placing a quick kiss to the tip of Julian’s nose. “No, it really doesn’t. You’re perfect to me, love.”

Julian bit his bottom lip, weighing his options. He could embrace it, get it over with and endure the inevitable whispers and gasps and pointed fingers,  _or_  he could wallow in self-pity and hide his true self for the rest of his days.

He reached up and untied the leather strap, letting it fall away. He flushed as Finn smiled, his face lighting up, golden eyes glowing as their gaze locked.

“There you are.”


	133. Julian x m!Apprentice 72.

Finn had always been attentive, but now,  _now_  he couldn’t do enough for Julian.

“Hey, do you need anything? Are you okay?”

Julian jumped out of his skin, quickly lifting his head from the table where he’d been attempting to nap, his vision blurry with almost-sleep. “W-what!?”

Finn knelt in front of him, big, golden eyes gazing up at him, handsome face etched with worry.

How long had he been sat there?

Julian sat back and stretched, his arms reaching high above his head as his joints noisily clicked into their rightful places. “I’m fine, really!”

Finn worried his lip between his teeth, his brow furrowed as he continued to stare up at Julian. His fingers twitched where they rested in his lap, and everything about his demeanour just seemed wholly un-Finnlike.

Julian cupped a hand to his cheek, Finn leaning into his touch needily. “Please don’t worry your pretty head, my dear. I’m not going to drop dead. Well… as far as I know.”

Finn’s eyes widened almost comically, tears brimming and threatening to spill. His lip may have even wobbled a little.

Julian clambered, quickly shifting to sit on the floor in front of him. “I was joking!”

Finn sniffled, swiping at his eyes. “Sorry. I’m being stupid.”

Julian smiled, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “It’s okay, I’m sure it’ll take some getting used to. I’ve made it this far, I’m fine as fine can be, situation pending, of course…”

Finn nodded, huffing a laugh as he carefully stroked his thumb over the soft skin beneath Julian’s plague-touched eye. “Look at us, we’re a mess. I should be comforting you, not the other way around.”

Julian hummed in agreement, pressing his hand over Finn’s, holding his touch close. “I’d be a rotten liar if I said I didn’t find it incredibly attractive that you’re so concerned.”

“Of  _course_ you find it attractive, you strange, strange man.”


	134. Julian x m!Apprentice 73.

A flurry of conflicting emotions rushed over him as long fingers carefully pushed the eyepatch back over his forehead, red curls fanning out beneath it.

Two perfect silver eyes stared at him, wide with wonder, glistening in the dull glow of the fire.   
The vivid crimson encircling his pupil was startling, but Finn had always wondered if that was what lurked beneath the patch.

He was both shocked and… not.

“I was… dying.”

Those words snapped Finn out of his daze, like a pair of hands were pushing him under ice-cold water, a shock to the system as he processed what Julian was saying.

“You… you had the plague.”

Not a question, a statement. He had to say it aloud to make himself believe it.

Julian nodded slowly, pulling the eyepatch off completely and holding it between his fingers, idly stroking it, his gaze still fixed on Finn.

Finn was vaguely aware that Muriel was standing,  _looming_  beside them, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

“I discovered the cure, Finn. I… this curse. Maybe Asra was trying to help me after all…”

Julian looked like a million thoughts were swirling around in his brain, memories rushing back, washing over him like an imposing tidal wave, threatening to pull him under. He shook his head as if to break free, his gaze having drifted far away.

His usual demeanour snapped back into place after a moment, and he fumbled to tie the eyepatch back in its usual place, his fingers shaking.

He usually had such steady hands.

Finn stopped him, grabbing his wrists and tugging them away, keeping his tight hold, the quicksilver thrum of Julian’s pulse protesting against his fingertips. “Stop.”

Julian’s eyes grew wide, startled. He turned his head away, registering that Finn was staring at him, his hair falling to hide his eye.

He was ashamed, and that realisation  _hurt_.

Finn watched the sharp line of his throat bob as he swallowed, closing his eyes in an attempt to hide. “Please, Finn,  _don’t_.”

Finn reached up to push his hair back from his face, the soft auburn strands snarling about his fingers. His touch lingered on Julian’s cheek, his thumb idly stroking soft skin. “We’ll go. To the dungeon, I mean. We’ll… you don’t get to die, Julian. Do you hear me? Whatever it takes.”

Julian’s breath hitched, his eyes slowly opening. He nodded, letting the hand that clutched the eyepatch fall to his side. “Whatever it takes.”


	135. Julian x m!Apprentice 74.

Julian’s head slammed back against the pillow as he let out a content groan, his fingers twisting in the soft sheets as Finn grinned against the soft skin of his hipbone, continuing to carefully trace the deep, arching wings with his tongue.

He’d been at the palace for two days straight, unable to steal away to see Julian, and now he was making up for it by slowly, reverently, exploring every damn inch of him.

Well, at least until one of them could no longer take the suspense, when they’d finally get to chase their bliss, so to speak. Though, much to Julian’s dismay (or pleasure, he couldn’t decide with that hot mouth pressed upon his skin), Finn was renowned for having a high tolerance of being an absolute fucking  _tease_.

He was currently situated between Julian’s shamelessly spread thighs, thoroughly pleased with himself as Julian whimpered and writhed upon the mattress in such a short space of time. His chest and cheeks were (unsurprisingly) painted with a deep flush, his breathing already unsteady.

It was rare they took their time like this, the usually frantic nature of their lovemaking overtaking the need to be slow, to  _really_  explore each other.

Tonight, Finn had decided Julian  _had_  to be patient, or he’d get nothing. That statement had swiftly stopped his protesting in its tracks. All Finn wanted to do was lose himself in Julian, and for Julian to relax for once in his goddamn life.

As Finn began to suck bruises into his soft skin, Julian arched his back, pushing greedily up against his mouth. He tasted like sex and sweat, the smell of his skin driving Finn insane as he pressed down against the mattress, chasing a tiny bit of friction to keep him sated.

“Cheat,” Julian mumbled, lifting his head slightly as Finn smirked, lifting his hips back up, arching his back. Julian groaned at the sight of him, his fingers twitching at his sides, clearly dying to reach out and take, take,  _take_.

Finn met his gaze, Julian’s silver eyes shining down at him in the moonlight, his perfect lips parted as Finn ran his nose down along the skin of his inner thigh. “Sorry,” he smirked, kneading the supple flesh with big hands.

Apparently Julian was ready to break, his resolve crumbling as long fingers laced into messy raven hair, boldly pushing Finn’s head  _just_  to the right, his length just a breath away from Finn’s mouth.

Finn’s breath hitched, fighting the urge to taste because  _god_  it would be so easy, just… right  _there_.

He growled, the sound making Julian shudder, Finn giving in, weak as he mouthed along Julian’s cock before taking him right down to the root in one, swift movement.

Julian bucked, startled by the sudden and intense contact, his fingers tugging at Finn’s hair, legs wrapping around him, heels digging into the hard lines of his back.

“ _Fuck_  you,” he laughed, breathless and  _gorgeous_  as Finn hollowed his cheeks around him.

Finn pulled away to admire him, to watch that flush spread along freckle-dusted shoulders, to watch that kiss-reddened bottom lip get tugged between his teeth, in awe of him.

 _Now_  Julian was done for, completely at Finn’s mercy as he took him back in his mouth, his hands gripping his waist firmly as he sucked gently, lightly scraping his teeth over the sensitive crown, knowing all the right ways to unmake him.

His technique had the desired effect, Julian’s hips continuing to stutter, elegant hands gripping at the bedsheets like a lifeline.

“You’re… unh  _Finn_. This will be over before it begins if you—“

Finn dropped down with one, swift glide, his nose brushing amongst the soft curls upon the base of his abdomen, stealing both the words from Julian’s mouth and the breath from his lungs.

There was no room for mercy now, the sight of Julian falling apart too rewarding as Finn kept his pace, laving his tongue over the weeping tip, driven mad by the salt-sweet taste of him.

Julian’s thighs tightened around him like a vice, keeping him right where he was, right where he  _needed_  him.

Julian’s body tensed, his orgasm cresting, hips straining up under Finn’s strong grip as he came with a strangled whimper, his fist in his mouth, biting down to stop himself from crying out.

Finn pulled away, replacing his mouth with his hand to stroke Julian through the final wave. “No. Let me hear you,” he hissed, tugging at Julian’s wrist with his free hand.

“ _Finn…_ ”

Finn smirked, his name coming out desperate, broken.

He’d won.

He surged forward, catching Julian’s parted lips in a kiss, the urgency palpable. Julian reached between them, deft fingers brushing over Finn’s straining erection, curling and beginning to stroke languidly.

Finn groaned against his lips, his hips stuttering up into Julian’s grip, already so, infuriatingly close that it took little to make him come over Julian’s stomach with a cry. He buried his face in the warmth of Julian’s neck, chuckling breathlessly against sweat-slick skin.

“Now we’re even.”


	136. Asra x Julian 14.

Julian hissed as Asra carefully traced the long, angry scorch marks that trailed his torso with delicate fingers, his muscles clenched tight, both pleasure and pain taking hold. 

Asra’s violet gaze was firmly fixed on his face, his expression unreadable, yet determined. 

He was the most disarming creature Julian had ever had the pleasure of knowing, and he’d known a _lot_ of strange characters in his time. 

He grabbed Asra’s wrist and tugged it away from his chest as he began to press harder on the burns. “That hurts.” 

The corners of Asra’s lips twitched into something that looked like the beginnings of a smile, but he quickly recovered, continuing his facade of being a complete fucking mystery. “I thought you liked pain, Ilya? You seemed to enjoy it when I wa–”

“Yes, yes,” Julian interrupted, his voice still annoyingly hoarse. “But… well, sometimes it’s nice to just um…”   


“Um?”   


Julian frowned, allowing Asra to snatch his hand from his grip. He sighed, running his hands through his hair. “Can we not just lay together, just… be… close?”

Asra smiled at that, though it was more of a wicked grin, a smile laced with mischief and… something else.

He sidled up to Julian, his naked form pressed close, infuriatingly warm and, _god_ , Julian was already getting hard again from just being near him.

Asra’s breath was warm on his cheek, white lashes fluttering seductively as he toyed with his pray. “You want to be _close_ , Ilya?” 

Julian grimaced, a swirl of warmth blooming upon his cheeks. He turned to face Asra, their legs now tangled together beneath the sheets, Asra’s gaze flickering between his lips and his eyes, watching every slight movement with something that looked a lot like hunger. 

“Asra… _please?_ ”   


Asra’s guard wavered at Julian’s soft, _honest_ plea, his whole demeanor changing as Julian shifted, offering him a spot to relax upon his chest, his arm raised in welcome. 

Julian watched his throat bob as he swallowed, his gaze softening as he finally gave in, settling in the safe crook of Julian’s arm, soft white hair tickling his skin. He placed a tentative hand over Julian’s waist, fingers twitching against his side, his body tense. 

Julian wondered why he was like this, why he didn’t allow himself to enjoy something that wasn’t all heated fumbling and sex. “Asra?” 

“Mmmhmm?”  


“Are you… are you okay?”   


Asra paused, a beat of silence before he fully relaxed, his arm tightening around Julian’s waist, nuzzling as close as possible. He looked up at Julian, and a disarmingly beautiful smile crossed perfect lips. “I am.” 

Julian returned his smile, resisting the urge to let a ridiculous, ear-to-ear grin break out and ruin the moment. He pressed a kiss to Asra’s forehead, holding him tight, and just relishing in how strangely natural and _wonderful_ it felt. 


	137. Julian 2.

He often had nightmares about the chair.

He’d wake with a start, sweat-soaked, his rapidly deteriorating lungs rattling as he gasped for breath. 

Asra would crack a single violet eye open, reaching out for him and tugging him back against the pillows, whispering soothing words and stroking auburn curls. He was used to the disturbances, yet he stayed to comfort him anyway, undeterred by the ghastly red gaze that stared back at him. 

He lay awake for hours, staring at the vaulted ceiling, trying to determine how he’d gotten here, how his life had gone so utterly, devastatingly _wrong_. 

When they shoved him into the dungeon, the rusted lock groaning as they twisted the key, he laughed. 

He laughed because of course, _of course_ Lucio would do such a thing, desperation suiting him better than any crown ever could. 

As he spent another day (or night, he couldn’t tell) hunched over the pathetic excuse for a desk they’d provided him, the incessant _drip, drip, drip_ of a broken pipe splashing against cold stone, the threat of a painful and undignified death looming, he finally found it. 

The cure. 

Maybe if Lucio hadn’t had his men steal him from his bed that night, maybe if he hadn’t been pinned to his own surgical chair and injected with infected blood, _Lucio’s_ blood, just to add insult to injury, he’d never have done it. 

He could finally help all of those people, help _himself_. He screamed at the top of his weak lungs for the guards, his voice hoarse, the taste of blood thick on his tongue as he hacked a cough. 

He hoped Asra was okay, hoped that they’d left him alone and not punished him for Julian’s failures. He hadn’t been to visit, but Julian was glad, he’d be ashamed if he saw him in this state. He couldn’t wait to tell him, to see the sparkle return to his pretty eyes, the sparkle that faded so long ago when they both lost the final thread of hope they’d clung onto for so long. 

No guards came. He waited, and waited, and _waited_. He slid down the damp wall, his legs splayed upon the cold, stone floor, a pit of dread swirling in his stomach. Something was wrong. 

Eventually, a figure appeared. Dark and looming and _tall_ , his face hidden by shadows as he broke the cell door open. He turned as Julian scrambled to his feet, loud, low voice echoing off the dungeon walls. “Asra needs you. Go, now.” 

Julian didn’t think twice, not even glancing back to see who the stranger was, merely running as fast as his unsteady legs would carry him. 

He also didn’t think twice as he flung himself into the inferno, a vision of white hair luring him in, the screaming and smoke a mere distraction as he reached for the ethereal figure before him, skin prickling from the heat until everything went black. 


	138. Julian x m!Apprentice 75.

“Shh!”

Julian winced, biting his tongue to stifle a groan as Finn pressed a cloth to the wound on his forehead. “I miss that bloody curse sometimes, you know, but, ah, not now.”

Finn smirked, pressing a little harder on the gash, appreciating the way Julian bucked beneath him, the flush upon his cheeks blooming a little bit brighter, eyes just a little more hooded.

Julian gripped Finn’s waist  _tight_ , his fingers digging hard in warning. “You tell me to be quiet then you do  _that_ ,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “I don’t care if she hears.”

Finn pulled the cloth away to ring it out, crimson water dripping loudly onto the floor. “I do wish you’d stop throwing yourself into danger, you’re not invincible anymore.”

Julian yanked the cloth from his hands, throwing it to the ground. He wrapped both arms around Finn’s waist and tugged him closer, chests seamed together tight. “Kiss me.”

Finn snorted a laugh, revelling in Julian’s dramatic ridiculousness. He grabbed a fistful of auburn curls, just above the still-bleeding wound and tugged his head back, running his nose up the column of Julian’s throat.

The noise that rumbled in Julian’s throat sent shivers down his spine, and Finn pressed his lips to Julian’s ear. “Say please.”

Julian whimpered, his arms winding tighter around Finn’s waist. “ _Please_.”

Finn obliged, catching his lips in a crushing, messy kiss, tugging Julian’s bottom lip between his teeth and biting down just hard enough to draw blood, the helpless buck of Julian’s hips sending sparks skittering over his skin.

Julian began to claw at Finn’s shirt, tugging it halfway down his shoulders, until…

“Is that you boys making a racket down there?”

Mazelinka’s voice echoed through the tunnel, the unmistakable creak of the trap door being opened snatching them both back to reality.

Finn grabbed Julian’s chin, pressing a final, quick kiss to his mouth. “I told you to be quiet.”

Julian groaned pathetically as Finn removed himself from his lap.


	139. Julian x m!Apprentice 76.

Julian had a bad habit of underestimating himself.

At first, Finn had simply thought Julian wasn’t interested, or at least wasn’t  _as_  interested as Finn was in him. It would be little things that he would notice; a lingering look here, a furrowed brow there, fingers that twitched impatiently as if they wanted to reach out and touch, yet formed a clenched fist at his side instead.

Finn was open with his affections, so, one day when Julian appeared to flinch away from him, he had enough.

”You’d tell me if you were losing interest in me, wouldn’t you?” He stepped forward in an attempt to meet Julian’s gaze, the doctor apparently actively trying to avoid eye-contact.

”I, uhhh… what?”

Finn huffed a laugh as a telltale flush bloomed across his cheeks. He reached up, cupping his hand to Julian’s jaw, coaxing him to look at him. “Julian?”

Julian whimpered quietly, leaning gratefully into his touch, pressing his own hand over Finn’s. He bit his bottom lip, looking nervous, his mouth opening and closing a few times as he searched for the right words. “I… I don’t deserve you, I know that. I’m just so used to desperately seeking affection from those who aren’t easy to gain it from,” he began, pausing to tug Finn’s hand away from his face, lacing their fingers together, his eyes fixed on the point of contact. “I just need to get use to it, I suppose?”

Finn frowned, only able to offer a pathetic, “Oh,” as he tried to process what Julian had told him. He sighed heavily, pushing down the urge to hunt down anyone who had ever made Julian feel less than worthy, who’d starved him of the affection he deserved.

He grabbed Julian by the shoulders, pushing him back against the wall with a  _thud_ , a startled yelp falling from Julian’s lips. Finn crowded close, as close as he could get, their bodies seamed together. He placed his hands upon the wall either side of Julian’s head, their noses brushing.

Julian’s gaze grew wide, the light flush on freckled cheeks a couple of shades darker now. He cleared his throat. “Finn?”

Finn smiled, surging forward to press their mouths together in a tender kiss, relishing in the way Julian sighed softly, sinking into it. Finn pulled away, only an inch, Julian’s breath warm upon his lips. “You can touch me whenever you like, you know. You don’t need permission from me Julian. I’m  _yours_.”

Julian exhaled sharply, placing a tentative hand upon Finn’s face, his thumb stroking circles on his cheek. “Mine?”

Finn nodded. “All of me.”


	140. Asra x Julian 15.

Asra laughed,  _laughed_  as Julian held him, his body limp and broken and bloody. “End of the line.”

Julian frowned, gently brushing a lock of hair from Asra’s sweat-slick forehead. “This is inherently  _not_  funny, you maniac.”

Asra reached up with a shaky hand to press it against Julian’s cheek, a sad, soft smile playing on his lips. “Ilya, I’m glad it’s you. I’m glad you’re here with me.”

Julian huffed a laugh, holding Asra’s hand to his face with his own, tears falling fast and free down his cheeks. “I can’t say I’m too happy about it.”

”Tell me one of your stories?”

”You hate my stories,” Julian sighed, carefully adjusting him, pulling him closer to his chest where he lay in the crook of Julian’s splayed legs.

”I don’t really, I just liked to keep you on your toes,” Asra smirked, trying (and failing) to hide the wince of pain as Julian pressed his hand to one of the wounds upon his side. “Don’t, please, Ilya.”

Julian could take it all away if he wanted to, but Asra was stubborn, the most stubborn man on the fucking planet, and he’d made his choice. He growled in frustration, glaring down at pretty violet eyes, the sparkle in them slowly fading.

He told Asra tales of wrestling lions (not true), and fighting krakens (strange, but true), watching the colour fade from tawny cheeks, feeling blood spilling over his fingertips.

Eventually, Asra was still.

Julian ran his fingertips over his eyes, his nose, his lips, committing his features to memory, as if he’d ever forget such a perfect face.

Some might say he looked peaceful, maybe even like he was sleeping, but Julian knew better. Julian knew that Asra didn’t stay still in his sleep, knew that Asra flailed, pressed cold feet to Julian’s calves, stole the covers, mumbled nonsense. Asra was full of energy and mischief and…  _life_.

It was then that Julian began to cry, letting himself feel everything, every single twinge of pain, of suffering, of  _loss._

“Oh, Asra,” he whispered, voice broken, wrecked. He leaned in, pressing a final kiss to perfect, parted lips. Asra would have crinkled his nose, playfully swatted him away for such a sickening display of affection, but he’d always reel him back in, clever fingers tugging at auburn curls as he pressed his mouth to Julian’s, slinking away a second later with a sly smile thrown over his shoulder.

Julian promised himself that  _that’s_  how he would remember him.

Beautiful, dangerous,  _his_.


	141. Julian x m!Apprentice 77.

Pirate Julian request. 

* * *

 

Finnegan waited impatiently on the dock, eyes firmly fixed on the horizon, seeking out the unmistakable crimson and black sails of The Raven. It had only been a few months since he’d seen him, but it felt like a lifetime ago. 

It had started in a dingy tavern in town a few years ago, whispers of the infamous Captain Devorak on everyone’s lips, tall tales of his heroics, of how he rescued fair maidens from the clutches of evil, or stole money from the rich to give to the poor. It all sounded very far-fetched, Finnegan simply rolling his eyes as he took a long swig of stale ale from his tankard, as the tavern continued to buzz with gossip.

Then, a man with hair brighter than the sun had burst through the door, grinning from ear to ear, eye shining like the brightest, most beautiful silver coin, quite possibly too dashing to be real. Finnegan had almost choked on his drink, those pretty eyes immediately meeting his, and before he knew it he was ten drinks in and had the Captain pushed up against the wall in the back room.

No less than an hour later the ship docked, and Captain Devorak’s boots hit the dock before the gangplank was even lowered and locked into place, instead gracefully vaulting right over the barrier and breaking out into a run. His crew protested playfully, yelling profanities and wolf-whistling as they watched the two of them embrace, the hug desperate as the Captain flung himself into Finnegan’s arms. 

Julian barely let him take a breath before pressing their lips together, Finnegan laughing against his mouth, returning the kiss with enthusiasm. 

“Gods, I missed you  _so_  much,” he mumbled as they broke apart, nuzzling his face into Julian’s neck, inhaling the scent of leather and salt and fresh air and  _him_. He could cry he was so happy, finally at peace in the arms of his lover. 

Julian pulled away, discreetly lifting his eyepatch to wipe away a stray tear that had fallen. He sniffled, offering Finnegan a crooked, toothy grin. “I missed you too.” He tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, reaching out to take Finnegan’s hand in his own, lacing their fingers together. “Come on.” 

Finnegan returned his grin and allowed himself to be led back onto the ship, Julian shamelessly parading him in front of his crew as they made their way to the Captain’s quarters. 

They fell to the bed in a tangled heap of limbs, hurriedly tearing each others clothes off, needy fingers grabbing,  _desperate_  as they clung to one another.  Finnegan flipped Julian onto his back, hovering over him as he traced the swirling lines of fresh, black ink that now covered Julian’s ribs on his left side. He smiled to himself, edging down to run his tongue over the sweeping patterns, Julian shuddering beneath him in response. “I like it, a  _lot_. Very pirate-y.”  

Julian’s hand slid up Finnegan’s back, tracing the dips and curves of his spine. “I knew you would. Now, come here, I need you.” 

Finnegan didn’t need to be asked twice, crawling back up his beautifully bared body, pressed sinfully close as he ran his nose along the sharp edge of Julian’s jaw, the pirate sighing contentedly. “ _Oh_ , you know, every time I’m with you I just think of leaving it all behind.” 

Finnegan’s heart lurched in his chest, a warmth blooming, spreading. He loved Julian with everything he had, and hearing him say things like that gave him a shimmer of hope. “You would really leave your ship to another? Come and live on the land? You’d be so bored,” Finnegan smiled, golden eyes fixed on Julian’s face as he reached down to cup his growing erection, squeezing gently. 

Julian chuckled, a delicious, low rumble as his hips helplessly bucked up into Finnegan’s curled fist. “Ah, now… how could it ever be boring when I have  _you_ to do wonderful things like  _this_  with?” 

He grabbed Finnegan’s chin, reeling him in for another heated kiss. He hissed as Finnegan pressed a slick digit inside, stretching him, impatient to place himself between those shamelessly spread thighs. He’d been driven mad by his absence, and he intended to remind Julian why they waited for each other, why they belonged together. 

Julian was gasping,  _begging_  for him to put him out of his misery in no time at all, Finnegan gratefully obliging as he surged forward, sheathing himself to the hilt with a broken-off groan. He stilled for a moment, gathering himself, the feeling overwhelming after so long. Julian dug his fingers into Finnegan’s arm, seemingly unable to speak, a deep, red flush spilling over his cheeks and chest. 

When Finnegan finally began to roll his hips, they both cried out, an easy rhythm building between them as they rocked together, Julian always meeting him half way, his back arched beautifully. Finnegan couldn’t keep his hands off him, wanting to commit every dip and curve and freckle to memory, his hands greedily roaming up his solid thighs, moving to trace the defined lines of his abdomen, before he splayed his palm upon his chest, feeling the rampant flutter of his heart. 

He pressed as close as he could get, not wanting an inch between them. He met Julian’s gaze, trying to convey everything he was feeling, trying to show the handsome pirate that had flipped his world on it’s axis what he meant to him, too scared to actually bloody  _say_ it. 

_Stay with me. Don’t leave again._

_“Fuck,_ Julian,”Finnegan groaned, that hot, slick,  _tight_ heat pushing him to the edge too quickly as he tried to chase the feeling, praying that he wouldn’t embarrass himself. He took matters into his own hands (literally), curling deft fingers around Julian’s aching length, stroking him quickly, relishing in the muttered gasps that fell from his lips. 

Julian came with a cry, his legs wrapped around Finnegan’s waist, pulling him close,  _closer_ and definitely shattering all hopes of Finnegan lasting even a second longer. Finnegan gave in, his fingers pressed hard into the arching wings of Julian’s hipbones as he came down from his orgasm, beautifully sated and yet wanting to do it all over again, right this damn second. 

They fell into a sweaty embrace, expensive (probably stolen) silk sheets covering them from the waist-down, Julian idly stroking Finn’s back, pressing a kiss into raven hair. He sighed contentedly, turning his head to meet Finnegan’s golden gaze. “I mean it when I say I could leave it all behind, you know.”

Finnegan swallowed, his throat suddenly very dry. He was fed up of these stolen moments, few and far-between, fleeting. “I… you could live with me, you know.”

Julian propped himself up, gazing down at him with that trademark smirk on kiss-swollen lips. “Sounds like a dream.” 

Finnegan smiled, nuzzling closer, sinking into his warmth, the gentle lap of the waves against the window lulling them into a blissful slumber. 


	142. Julian x m!Apprentice 78.

_Fire. Flames everywhere, just… licking at bared skin and searing, scorching hot. He could feel the tips of his fingers burning away, thick blood running down his wrists and looking in his palms._

_He tried to scream but the sound came out pathetic, broken. The jagged stone cut into his knees as he fell to the floor, frantically searching through the inferno to seek out a pair of silver eyes, only to be met with red instead_

~   ~   ~

He was pulled from the nightmare by a warm pair of hands cupping his face, silver (thank  _god_ ) eyes staring down at him. “It’s okay! I’ve got you,” Julian whispered, his voice calm and inherently soothing, tugging him back to reality.

He sat up, dazed and blurry-eyed as he tried to shake the awful images from his mind. He felt his head pounding, the beginnings of another headache thrumming in his temples. Julian registered his discomfort, reaching to grab his glass of water from the bedside table.

”Here, drink,” he mumbled, brow furrowed, face etched with concern as he wrapped his arm around his waist, pulling him close. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He gratefully drained the glass, gasping for a steady breath as he set it down. He sunk in to Julian’s embrace, resting his head upon broad shoulders, long fingers stroking through his hair. “No. Just… this is good.”

Julian held him for as long as he needed, both of them finally drifting off into a safe and dreamless sleep.


	143. Asra x m!Apprentice 28.

Asra fell to his knees, fingers twisting in Finn’s shirt, the blank, almost startled stare that bore into him was like a dagger to his heart. “ _No_ , not again,” he sobbed, clinging tighter as if he was afraid to let go, as if that flimsy bit of fabric was the only anchor he had.

How could he be so stupid? How could three words do so much harm?

 _I love you_.

Finn frowned, golden eyes having lost their sparkle, their passion. The way he’d looked at him before was as if he’d crafted the universe, he’d been loved, he’d been  _his_.

”Who… who are you?”

Asra jolted away, breaking his hold on him, tears falling freely down flushed cheeks. He closed his eyes  _tight_ , wishing all of this away, wishing it was just a nightmare. He felt selfish, Finn having made such beautiful progress since the last incident. He’d taken it for granted, too weak to resist his touch when it was offered, to desperate to hit back those dangerous words.

Asra covered his mouth with his hands, trying to stifle the broken sobs that shook him, his whole body  _aching_.

He felt a warm, familiar touch settle upon his shoulder, cracking open red-rimmed eyes to see Finn sat before him, a worried look on his handsome face. “Are you okay? Can I help you? I have a shop in town, let me take you there.” His thumb began to idly stroke Asra’s shirt where his palm laid, the gesture so natural, so  _Finn_.

_He’s still in there._

Finn offered him a smile, genuine and  _beautiful_. “Come on, I’ll make you some tea.” He offered Asra his hand, pulling him to stand up. “What’s your name? I’m… uhh…”

Asra saw a flash of confusion cross his features. “Finnegan, your name is Finnegan… Finn.”

”Oh, yes.  _Finn_ ,” he nodded, seemingly unsure, but believing Asra anyway. “Sorry, I told you already, didn’t I? I… never mind. Shall we?”

Asra nodded, smiling sadly as Finn led the way, biting back another round of tears as he followed the man he loved to  _their_  home, the man he broke. He pulled together his carefully crafted facade, carefully pushing down the hurt and the searing,  _scorching_  pain as he promised himself it wouldn’t happen again, that the next time he said those three words, they’d be repeated back to him.


	144. Asra x Julian 16.

Asrian first kiss request. 

* * *

 

Asra had been looking at him differently.

Julian was sure he was having some kind of fever dream, but something had changed over the past week. Lingering glances from pretty violet eyes had haunted him, and he was too much of a coward to say anything, to question it.

It was Julian who was doing the staring now, sat behind his desk  _not_ working on a cure for the Count while Asra sat cross-legged opposite him. The witch idly flicked through a dusty tome, sighing heavily as he gave up, discarding it with a huff.

Julian flushed as Asra met his gaze, a sly smile twitching at perfect, plump lips. He stood, walking around to lean back against the desk directly in front of Julian, picking at the splintered wood. “Can I ask you something, Ilya?”

Julian nodded, cautious, Asra’s tone almost playful.

Asra was like lightening; beautiful,  _dangerous_. White lashes kissed the tops of dark cheeks, Julian instinctively leaning closer, being lured in by the mere presence of him. Pathetic, really, for him to hold a secret hope that his crush would be reciprocated, when Asra was really just this beautiful, untouchable thing.

Asra pushed away from the desk, looming over him in a swift, fluid movement, hands grasping the arms of his chair, lips but a breath away.

Julian sucked in a startled breath as Asra tilted his face invitingly, almost daring Julian to close the minuscule gap between them, a temptation that was hard to resist.

Julian swallowed thickly, his eyes flickering over Asra’s face, settling upon his lips. “Asra?”

Asra narrowed his eyes as if he were contemplating his next move, his gaze intense. Then, he reached up, cupping his hand to the sharp line of Julian’s jaw. “Just a curiosity, that’s all,” he whispered.

In the next moment, he brought their mouths together, and Julian was a goner. A simple kiss couldn’t be this  _good_ , the unbelievable softness of his lips, the taste of him, the way clever fingers pushed into messy curls. He was heaven and hell wrapped up in one devastatingly attractive bundle.

Julian didn’t want it to end, and when Asra climbed into his lap, it was clear he didn’t either. Julian’s hands gripped his waist, fingers pushing up under the flimsy shirt to trail over silk-soft skin.

A flash of warmth pooled low in his abdomen, the simple, yet maddening brush of their tongues almost too much, his skin feeling tight,  _hot._

Asra pulled away first, biting his kiss-reddened bottom lip, so unselfconsciously seductive it should be a crime. He smiled, running his thumb over Julian’s lip, an evident hunger still burning in his heavy-lidded gaze. “Ilya,” he purred, pushing his fingers into his hair again, tugging gently.

Julian groaned, completely at his mercy, practically panting as he waited patiently for Asra’s next move, praying that it involved their lips touching once again.


	145. Asra x Julian 17.

Direct continuation of the previous chapter. 

* * *

 

Asra stayed close, appreciating the way Julian’s partially exposed chest heaved with laboured breaths, his tongue flicking out over kiss-swollen lips as if he was chasing the taste of him.

He could try to resist, end it here and just be satisfied with knowing what it felt like to kiss him, and yet Asra wanted  _more_ , his curiosity not even close to being sated. He knew about Julian’s infatuation with him, for he was anything but subtle, and he could no longer deny his own attraction to the handsome doctor. Though, there had to be a line, a boundary. Asra’s heart belonged to another, and no matter how untouchable his love may be at this moment in time, he only truly existed for them.

Asra twisted his fingers in Julian’s flimsy shirt, tugging him closer, thrilling at the way Julian greedily leaned in, a broken moan falling from parted lips.

Julian was hard,  _hot_  beneath him, and all Asra could think about was how much he wanted to reach down and touch him.

Julian was beautifully supplicant beneath him, all wide silver eyes as he waited with bated breath for whatever Asra would give him. “I can’t give you all of me, but you can have as much as I’m willing to give. Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll stop.”

Julian’s gaze faltered, his brow furrowing for a beat before a look of determination crossed his face. “Don’t stop.”

Asra didn’t need to be told twice, surging forward to lick hungrily into his mouth, the slick glide of their tongues maddening. Asra blindly began to unbutton Julian’s shirt, pushing it off his shoulders, his hands ghosting over broad muscles, down,  _down_  until greedy fingertips were toying with the waistband of his trousers.

Asra dipped inside, curling his fingers around his length, Julian’s hips jerking helplessly. Asra became enthralled with the way he responded so beautifully, the quiet moans, the quickening of his breath, the flutter of long lashes. Julian was utterly oblivious to how tempting he was, didn’t realise how long Asra had dreamed about this moment, about having him hot and writhing beneath him, unwittingly fulfilling every fantasy Asra had ever concocted.

Julian pushed his hands up beneath Asra’s shirt, big palms spanning his back, tracing up and down his spine, mapping tawny skin as he desperately looked for something to cling to.

Asra pulled away with a smirk, wanting to watch him as he came undone, beginning to stroke him languidly, a slick glide of skin on skin, Julian perfect and thick and  _aching_  in his palm.

Julian swiftly lost his mind, becoming a devastating,  _shuddering_ mess, bucking up into his grip, silently begging for more, more  _more_ , his eyes blown-black as he stared up at Asra, his name falling from his lips like a prayer as he finally spilled over Asra’s fist.

“So beautiful,” Asra groaned, leaning back in to catch his lips in a heated, hungry kiss, feeling alive for the first time in a long time.


	146. Modern AU Updates

All Arcana 'Modern/College AU' chapters are kept separately [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12812169/chapters/29247009). 

A few updates! Cheers <3


	147. Finn x Alkar 1.

Alkar is an amazing apprentice I've swiftly fallen in love with. He belongs to [ondriaprice](ondriaprice.tumblr.com) \- check out her art on tumblr (of Finn too!) 

 

* * *

 

Finn wandered through the market, perusing the colourful stalls and making small talk with a few friendly merchants. He’d fast become a favourite patron for many of them, mainly thanks to the (definitely stolen) gold that lined his pockets thanks to an insistent Julian.

He turned a corner, sliding into one of the many narrow alleyways that made up the streets of Vesuvia. He heared heavy boots approaching behind him, turning just in time to see the face of the man who was pinning him to the wall, his arm planted firmly across his chest.

The first thing Finn noticed was that he was handsome,  _really_ handsome. The kind of ‘annoyingly attractive’ that should probably be illegal. A sliver of vivid red ink peeked out from his low-cut shirt, sitting upon his collarbone, a tantalising amount of his well-muscled chest also on show.

Finn felt the bite of jagged stone digging into his spine as the stranger pushed harder, squaring up to him in a manner that was definitely supposed to be intimidating, but all Finn could concentrate on was the pretty golden, almost amber hue of his eyes.

“Can I help you?”

The man snarled, his gaze flickering over Finn’s features, hungrily taking him in. “Where is the doctor?”

Ah.  _Shit_.

Finn narrowed his eyes, sighing and relaxing against the wall, trying his hardest to be unintimidated. “I don’t know wh—“

The man surged closer, dropping his arm and pinning him with his body instead, not an inch left between them. He planted his thigh between Finn’s parted legs, growling low, menacing. “ _Don’t_  lie to me. You have one more chance before I really lose my temper.”

Finn smirked at that, fidgeting against him, his fingers twitching at his sides. If he  _really_  wanted to, he could easily manoeuvre out of his hold, switch places and have  _him_  pressed up against the wall instead. Alas, he continued to be the mans temporary prisoner, deciding to have some fun instead.

“What do I get if I tell you?”

The man frowned, perplexed, his messy raven hair almost completely obscuring one of his pretty eyes. “What do you mean  _‘what do I get’_? I’m threatening you.”

Finn shrugged, the action slightly stilted by the warm press of the mans chest. “I mean, the doctors whereabouts… that’s valuable information. So, what do I get?”

He tilted his head to the side, a curious smile playing at his lips. “How about you tell me, and I won’t  _kill_  you. Is that a good enough deal?”

Finn watched as he flicked his tongue out to wet his lips, a certain warmth blooming in his abdomen, the closeness of him coupled with a his earthy smell overwhelming his senses slightly. “Sorry, what was the question? I was distract—“

His words were cut off as a big, calloused palm gripped his throat, the man closer again, their noses brushing. “I know who you are to him. He took something from me, and I’d gladly take something from him if you don’t stop  _fucking_  with me.”

The warm,  _hard_  press of fingers around his jugular made Finn dizzy in the best way, and he idly thought to himself how well the man and Julian would get on if he didn’t want to kill him. “If you know who I am to him, then you know I’m not going to tell you where he is.”

Finn reached up, grabbing the mans wrist and prying his hand away with ease, his bright eyes growing wide as Finn pushed him away with a palm to the chest. “Come near him and  _I’ll_  kill  _you_.” His voice was low, and he meant every damn word.

Finn brushed himself off, reaching out to push the soft lock of hair that covered the mans face, his touch lingering for a moment upon his temple. If he looked hard enough, he’d see a soft blush blooming upon russett cheeks. “You have pretty eyes, you shouldn’t hide them.”

With that, he turned, leaving the enchanting, yet violent, stranger standing in the alley.


	148. Finn x Alkar 2.

Finn pressed his palm flat upon the door, feeling his wards melt away under his touch, swiftly snapping back into place as Finn retracted his touch upon hearing the squeak of a shoe on the wet cobblestones.

He spun quickly, flames licking at his fingertips, only to find Alkar standing in the dark street, a grimace fixed firmly upon his pretty face. “Oops.”

Finn sighed, letting his magic fade away. “Subtle. What do you want now?”

Alkar had practically been stalking him, trying desperately to catch a glimpse of Julian, the thought of what he’d do if he ever did catch them together sending a shiver down Finn’s spine. He meant business, and his business was to capture, and probably kill the man Finn loved. Though, Finn had grown annoyingly fond of him, and it would appear that Alkar’s initial hatred of him had turned into low-level loathing.

Alkar, cocky as ever, stepped up onto the stoop to join him, leaning back against the stone shop wall. “I was just on my nightly walk, minding my own business. Nothing sinister.”

Finn scoffed, quirking his brow, definitely not convinced. “ _Sure_.” He decided it was time to have some fun with him again, pressing a firm finger to the centre of Alkar’s well-muscles chest and staring him dead in the eye. “I just think you like me.”

Alkar rolled his pretty eyes, grabbing Finn’s wrist and tugging his hand away. “You  _wish_ ,” he snarled, but the light flush that bloomed upon russet cheeks told a different story.

Finn tutted, joining him in leaning against the wall, their shoulders brushing. “I told you before, you’ll never find him, definitely not by following me at least.”

Alkar pursed his lips, nodding slowly. “Very well, but I don’t trust you as far as I can throw you, whi—“

”I doubt you could throw me very far.”

” _Exactly!_ ” Alkar smirked, their gazes fixed, lingering just a moment too long. Alkar cleared his throat. “I’ll be watching.”

Finn bit his bottom lip before offering him a wolfish grin. “I bet you will.”

Finn laughed as he entered the shop, the sound of Alkar cursing loudly disappearing with the slam of the door.


	149. Finn x Alkar 3.

Finn was awoken from a rather pleasant dream by a loud  _thud,_ swiftly followed by a whispered, “Ouch.”

He quickly sat up, eyes still heavy with sleep, sheets pooled around his bare waist as he looked down at the floorboards, meeting Alkar’s sheepish gaze. He’d apprently fallen through the window and was now in a heap on the floor.

Finn groaned, falling back against the pillow, his hands covering his face. “You’re breaking into my house now?”

Alkar stood, brushing himself off and offering Finn a crooked, cocky grin. “Well, I wasn’t  _planning_  on actually coming in, but I appear to have lost my footing.”

Finn watched his eyes flicker over the rumpled bedsheets as Alkar walked around to the unoccupied side of the bed, his presence strangely familiar now. He curiously thumbed through the tattered medical journal on the side table. “So he  _does_ sleep here then?”

Finn frowned, sitting up and fiddling with the edge of the sheet. “When is this going to end? When can I sleep beside my lover without wondering if I’ll wake up to him with a dagger in his chest?”

Alkar studied him for a moment, something that looked a lot like guilt crossing his features, before it faded into his usual stubborn stare.

”He didn’t do it, that much I know. I can’t tell you who, but I swear on my life that it wasn’t him,” Finn sighed, utterly defeated. Alkar took a seat upon the mattress, his back turned to Finn. “I want to know who it was as much as you do, Alkar. Let me help you.” He edged closer, reaching out to press his hand over Alkar’s, gently squeezing.

Alkar turned, eyes wide as they fixed upon the point of contact. Finn retracted his hand quickly, muttering an apology, but before the words had fully left his mouth Alkar had surged forward, pressing his warm ( _so_  warm) mouth over Finn’s.

Talented fingers wound their way into Finn’s hair as he sank into the needy,  _desperate_  kiss that felt like fire, taking over his senses, his  _everything_. He reluctantly pushed Alkar away, his hand lingering on his chest, both of them practically panting. “Alkar, I…”

Alkar touched his thumb to his lips as if he were chasing the feeling of the kiss, his bright, pretty eyes blown-black as he grinned,  _smirked_ , not even a little bit sorry. “You’re a good kisser.”

Finn scoffed. “You thought I wouldn’t be? How naive.”

Alkar moved away, beautiful as the moonlight hit his dark, russet skin, highlighting every sinful dip and curve of muscle that was visible through his flimsy shirt. “Anyway, I’ll… I’ll be going.” His voice was rough, raspy. He slowly walked over to the window, perching himself on the sill and half climbing out.

”I meant it, you know,” Finn mumbled, stopping Alkar in his tracks. “All you have to do is ask, and maybe stop trying to kill my boyfriend,” he added, returning the sly smirk that Alkar threw over his shoulder before he disappeared into the night. A strange warmth pooled in Finn’s chest, a surge of  _something_  that seemed to linger for some time whenever Alkar left.

 _Shit_.


	150. Finn x Alkar 4.

Finn always managed to find himself in strange situations these days. So, laying on the roof of the shop, gazing up at the stars and sharing a bottle of whiskey with Alkar felt… normal.

He took a swig of the amber liquid, relishing in the cool burn as it slid down his throat before passing the bottle to Alkar, their fingers brushing.

Finn bit his bottom lip, keeping his gaze fixed on the night sky as Alkar wrapped his lips around the bottle, taking more than a few generous gulps. He sighed loudly, passing the bottle back to Finn. “This is weird. Is this weird?”

”Yes,” Finn stated, not even a seconds hesitation. It  _was_  weird, this little ‘thing’ they had. Julian was fully aware of Alkar, and of Finn’s curiosity, but it was still  _weird._

Alkar hummed his agreement, turning onto his side, their legs pressed together in a warm seam. “Then what are we going to do about it?”

Finn shifted, his arms resting behind his head, feeling Alkar’s eyes burning into him, taking him in appreciatively. He shrugged, his lips shifting into a wolfish grin.

Alkar growled, frustrated with his nonchalance. He sat up, arms resting on his bent knees as he glared out over the sparkling lights of Vesuvia. “You’re infuriating,” Alkar began, voice pitched low. “I just… I need to get it out of my system.”

Finn propped himself up into his elbows, his curiosity piqued, brow arched in question. “Get what out of your system, exactly?”

Alkar picked up a stray rock that lay at his feet, throwing it off the roof with a flick of his wrist, the distant sound of breaking glass echoing. He licked his lips, looking down at Finn. “You. This. Whatever  _this_  is.” He gestured vaguely, his hand waving between them.

“Huh,” Finn said, sitting a little straighter, a little closer, something warm unspooling in his gut, his body wholly aware of Alkar’s closeness, his warmth. He picked up the whiskey and drained it dry, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Very well. Do what you have to do, then. I have no objections.”

Alkar whipped around to face him, an incredulous look on his face. “You… you can’t be serious! What about—“

Finn shrugged. “I keep no secrets from Julian.” He could feel Alkar’s demeanour change, could hear each rise and fall of his breath, feel dark amber eyes sweeping down his face, chest,  _everywhere_.

“Okay,” Alkar said, his voice a husky murmur as he moved closer, going in for the kill as he straddled Finn’s hips, pressing a hand to his chest, right above his heart. He actually  _whimpered_  as Finn shifted beneath him, the simple roll of his hips driving Alkar mad. Finn had the gall to smirk, falling back upon his elbows as Alkar loomed over him, eyes hungry, lips parted.

Finn watched as Alkar’s unfairly long, dark ( _so_  dark) lashes lowered, his breath hitching as Finn reached up, cupping a big hand around the back of his neck. “What’s the matter? Are you scared?” He smirked, cocky and just… honestly growing  _impatient_. Alkar frowned, swatting his hand away and snarling as Finn chuckled in response, immediately surging closer—close enough to catch Finn’s lips in a rough kiss, stealing those cocky words from his mouth.

Finn pressed closer instinctively, Alkar’s lips soft and  _warm_  against his own, something inherently desperate about the way he moved. His hand gripped Finn’s hip, tension humming between them as Finn pushed his fingers into dark, messy hair, lips continuing to move in a slick, sensual glide.

Finn couldn’t resist, taking Alkar’s bottom lip between his teeth and just…  _biting_. He responded differently to Julian, less supplicant, more ravenous, his whole body jolting, a  _deep_  groan rumbling in his throat.

Alkar pulled away, that simple bite clearly enough to wind him up as he greedily pushed Finn’s shirt off his shoulders, hands roaming the bare plains of his chest, fingertip tracing the outline of the black ink moon upon his breast.

He dug blunt nails into his flesh, bruising,  _marking_  him. He was hot, fucking  _scalding_ , deadly, his movements morphing into something a little filthier.

Finn couldn’t  _think_  as they moved against one another, Alkar debauched and delightful above him, those bright eyes blown-black, lips bitten red. He sat back suddenly, seemingly trying to process what to do next. “I…  _fuck._ ”

He dismissed whatever thought had stopped him, crowding close to push Finn down, littering his jaw with a trail of hot kisses, moving to lick down the column of his throat. Finn bit his tongue, stifling what was sure to be an embarrassing groan as he dug his fingers into Alkar’s sides, feeling exposed and aching, yet also finding it hard to care.

“Finn,” Alkar began, interrupting himself by dragging his teeth over the sharp line of Finn’s jaw. “We’re on a roof.”

They both stopped, bare-chested and aching and… on a roof. “Yes. Yes we are,” Finn nodded, furrowing his brow as Alkar pulled away, his hands splayed upon Finn’s thighs, thumbs rubbing idle circles over the fabric.

”Huh.” He looked down at Finn, eyes growing comically wide, cheeks flushed. “Uh! I have to go?”

Finn sat up, watching Alkar’s poor attempt at fixing himself up, his hair a dishevelled mess (more than usual, anyway), his shirt just… somewhere else. Finn grabbed his wrist, feeling the quicksilver thrum of his pulse against his fingertips. “Until next time, then.”

Alkar nodded, the hint of a sly, possibly shy smirk playing upon his lips. “Next time.”


	151. Finn x Alkar x Julian 1.

Finn stirred, smiling to himself as he felt the sun hitting his face where it streamed through the gauzy curtains.

As comfortable as he was, he was reluctant to open his eyes as a throbbing,  _searing_  migraine made itself at home in his brain, a friendly reminder that him and Julian had far too many salty bitters at The Raven last night. Again.

He stretched his arms above his head with a satisfied groan, feeling all of his bones click in to place, a familiar pair of lips placing sleepy kisses upon his throat.

”Mmm, morning,” he sighed, wrapping an arm around Julian’s shoulder, urging him to continue as he idly stroked his soft, sleep-warm skin. He turned his head to seek out those warm, inviting lips, only to become thoroughly confused when another body nuzzled against his other side, legs tangling with his own.

He sat up quickly, soft sheets pooling around his (very) naked waist as his eyes frantically flickered between a dazed Alkar and a still half-asleep Julian.

”What the  _fuck_!?”

Julian flailed, scrambling to sit up as he clutched the sheets to hide his modesty, his silver eye comically wide as he registered the presence of another man in their bed.

Alkar looked equally as shocked, lifting the sheet and flushing when he registered that he too was very,  _very_  naked. “Um…”

Julian blushed (of course), his cheeks burning a bright crimson. “Salty bitters?”

Finn nodded. “You insisted. I… forget what happened after the third.”

Alkar cleared his throat, his dark amber eyes firmly fixed upon Julian. “Shit.”

Finn covered his mouth with his hand in an attempt to stifle a rather inappropriate giggle that had manifested in his throat, both men turning to glare at him. “Sorry.”

Julian poked a long finger against a bruise on Finn’s throat, trailing down to connect a rather vast series of purple and yellow marks that were blooming from his throat down over his shoulders and chest. “Well, it would appear we had fun, at least.”

Finn eyed Alkar wearily, biting his lip as he tried to determine his current state of mind, seemingly unable to decide if he wanted to kiss or kill Julian as he stared at him with a certain hunger.

“Alkar, meet Julian. Julian, this is Alkar, though I think we’re past introductio—“

Alkar cut off his words with a pillow to the face, his deep, tawny cheeks almost as red as Julian’s.


	152. Finn x Alkar x Julian 2.

Julian felt… odd. 

He cracked his eye open, his head swimming, fuzzy. He blinked away the blur in his vision only to find Alkar, of all people, sat crossed-legged at his feet, dark eyes gazing up at him, fixed in a glare. 

Alkar rolled his eyes, dragging himself to his feet. “Finally! I thought I might have killed you.” 

Julian struggled against his restraints, his hands loosely tied behind the back of the chair Alkar had placed him in. “These could do with being a bit tighter.”

Alkar eyed him wearily, bending down to check his work and giving the ropes a good tug. Julian groaned loudly as they pinched his wrists, chuckling to himself as Alkar blushed furiously. “ _Much_  better. Now, can I ask what the meaning of this is? If you wanted another go, you only had to ask.” 

Alkar took a seat upon the stone floor, leaning back against the wall. He eyed the door, seeming slightly twitchy. He pouted, shaking his head at Julian’s question. 

Julian watched him watch the door, and registered his obvious impatience. He was waiting for someone, waiting for… “ _Oh!_ ” Julian began. Then, he laughed, a loud and obnoxious bark, eyebrow quirked, curiosity piqued. “You did this so he would come rescue me, didn’t you? You’re head over heels. I mean, I don’t blame you, he is quite magnificent, so–”

Alkar was looming over him in a second, fast and furious as he grabbed Julian’s chin. He snarled, perfect lips curled back over his teeth. “ _Shut up_  Devorak. I’m still not entirely convinced I won’t kill you, so watch your mouth.” 

Julian tugged his bottom lip between his teeth, not even trying to hide the fact that this was thrilling him, a warmth blooming low in his abdomen as Alkar kept his hold on his chin, gripping just shy of too-hard. “ _So_  predictable. He’s been busy, so he hasn’t snuck away to see you. It all makes sense now,” he tutted, shaking his head. “You really only had to stop by, it’s not like we’d have turned you away.” He offered Alkar a wolfish grin, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Alkar’s nostrils flared, Julian clearly pressing all the right buttons to drive him mad. Surely it wouldn’t hurt to push him a _little_  further, Julian knowing full-well that Alkar wouldn’t really harm him. “ _That_ night, you know the one? I lied, I remember  _everything_. I’ve built up quite a tolerance to those salty bitters, you see…” 

Alkar growled, sliding his hand down to curl his fingers around Julian’s throat, the flush upon his cheeks growing darker. 

Julian gasped, the hard press of calloused fingers hot like a brand, his pulse thrumming double-time in protest against warm skin. “ _Yes_ , you remember too, don’t you? The way we both devour–” 

Alkar stole his words with a crushing kiss, running his free hand down Julian’s chest, down  _down_  his abdomen. Julian helplessly bucked his hips up into his touch as his hand pandered between his thighs, the kiss deepening, growing hotter and more desperate as the seconds passed, teeth and tongues and  _delicious_. 

Eventually Alkar pulled away, still close enough for Julian to feel his breath upon his lips. “Shut  _up_ ,” he hissed, eyes closed as he pressed their foreheads together, their chests heaving as they caught their breath. “Yes, I want him, I want… I don’t  _know_  what I want!”  

As Alkar slowly leaned back in, a loud  _crash_ startled them both, Alkar spinning to find a rather agitated looking Finn standing in the now non-existent doorway, gold eyes glowing with magic. He relaxed his defensive posture, the magic balled and ready in his palm fading as he saw them both, his brow furrowed. 

“What the _fuck_! Why have you got Julian all tied up without me?”


	153. Julian x m!Apprentice 79.

They walked hand in hand through the bustling night market, the sky clear and stars shining bright. As Finn turned his head to meet Julian’s gaze, Julian deduced that it was the most perfect of evenings.

As they perused the stalls, one in particular caught Julian’s eye. He snatched his hand from Finn’s grip, rushing over to it and mumbling to himself as he took in the merchants wares, ignoring Finn’s confused calls.

He’d been trying to find a way to show Finn just how much he meant to him, to repay him for everything he’d done, for the way he’d enriched his life, made him whole again.

“Perfect, yes,” Julian mumbled to no one in particular, the merchant eyeing him wearily as he poked at the items that had caught his eye. “I’ll take both of these,” he nodded, shaking the coin purse in his general direction.

The merchant perked up at the unmistakable rattle of gold, flashing Julian a toothy grin, his demeanour suddenly friendly as he boxed up the items. Julian hurriedly grabbed the bag he held out, nodding his thanks before scurrying back to find Finn.

“What was that about?”

Warmth bloomed across Julian’s cheeks as he dropped his gaze from a curious Finn, knowing that he’d be able to read him like a book. “Oh, it’s nothing, something just caught my eye.” He hooked his arm through Finn’s. “Come on, it’s getting late, let’s head home.”

He could tell Finn wanted to question him further, his sudden skittishness not at all subtle, but he simply smiled and let Julian lead him back to the shop.

The walk home was comfortably silent, but inside Julian was panicking, his heart thumping frantically, practically trying to escape the cage of his ribs. He yelped as Finn reached to open the door, grabbing his wrist and tugging him off the stoop and back into the street.

An increasingly frustrated Finn huffed, grabbing Julian by the shoulders and fixing his piercing, golden gaze upon him. “Julian! Tell me what’s going on, you’ve been acting strange since the market.”

Julian smirked. “Me, strange? Never!”

Finn narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms across his broad chest, his lips set in a thin line as he waited for an explanation.

“Right. Okay,” Julian nodded, reaching into his coat to pull out one of the neatly wrapped boxes. He held it flat in his palm, regarding it for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Finnegan.  _Finn_ ,” he began, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “I… I got you this.”

He reached for Finn’s hand and carefully pushed the glistening golden band onto his ring finger.

Finn held his hand in front of his face, turning it slightly so that the light of the moon caught in the polished metal. “Are you… is this a  _proposal?_ ”

Julian’s eyes grew comically wide as he nervously ran his fingers through his hair, his hand coming to rest at the back of his neck, cheeks burning under Finn’s intense stare. “Well… um. Yes?” He reached back into his coat, producing a matching ring. “I mean, if you  _want_ , I… I don’t know how to…”

Finn huffed a laugh, a look of disbelief crossing his handsome face. He stepped forward, closing the gap between them to press their mouths together, his fingers pushing into auburn curls. They rested their foreheads together, Finn’s breath warm upon Julian’s lips. “You’re ridiculous, do you know that?”

Julian winced, crinkling his nose. “I’m sorry. Did I ruin it? I just… I—“

Before he could finish his sentence, Finn had snatched the other ring from Julian’s grip. “Julian,  _Ilya_ ,” he smiled, pushing the ring onto his finger. “There. Now we’re even.”

Julian inhaled sharply, the weight of the band around his finger feeling inherently  _right_ , as if it had always been there.


	154. Julian x f!Apprentice 5.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d taken a bath, and the thought alone had reduced her to tears. Julian had rushed to her side, reeling her in and holding her close in big, safe arms. He’d shushed her, stroked her hair and laughed lightly when she told him why she was crying. He assured her it was just over a day ago, but she felt utterly useless regardless. 

He ushered her up the stairs, their fingers laced together as he led her into the tiny bathroom, making her sit on the side of the porcelain tub as he ran the water.  The air felt thick around her, like a miasma,  _suffocating_ as she tried to remember how fast her heart should be beating.

Julian was a master in distraction, spouting another tale of piracy and adventure while they waited for the bath to fill, all of which sounded far-fetched, but entirely, and hilariously true. 

“And that’s how I got this scar,” he grinned, tugging his shirt up to point a long finger at a tiny, almost impossible to notice crescent-moon shaped mark upon the curve of his hipbone, the skin slightly pinker and puckered. 

She laughed lightly, feeling the weight slowly begin to lift from her shoulders. 

“Come on,” he mumbled, his brow furrowed as he helped her take off her robe and, ever the gentleman, offered her his hand as he helped her into the tub. 

The bath was on the verge of being too-hot, but the sudden sting was welcome as she sank below the water, her long hair swirling about her in tendrils. As she broke the surface she opened her eyes, and Julian was leaning on the side of the tub, staring at her with a dreamy, yet concerned look in his singular silver eye. 

She found it impossible not to smile at the sight of him, her lips twitching at the corners. “What are you staring at?” 

He sighed dramatically, brushing his fingertips along the surface of the water, both of them watching the gentle ripples. “Just… I just want you to be okay, and I want you to tell me if you’re not.” 

She dropped her gaze, biting her bottom lip. She felt like such a hypocrite, having lectured him so many times on not hiding his bad days from her, on being open and  _honest_. He’d been flourishing lately, and he’d assured her it was all thanks to her support, her love. 

He caught a wet curl between his fingers. “I’m here for you, as you are here for me. Okay?” 

She tried to remember how to form words, to force them out somehow. The feeling of them lodging thick in her throat as she opened her mouth, this solid,  _choking_  pressure. Instead, she grabbed his hand, pulling it to her lips, placing a kiss to his knuckles. She nodded, her heartbeat steadying as she twined their fingers together, his grounding touch pulling her back from the brink. 

“I… I promise.” 

He grinned then, a ridiculous,  _cheesy_  smirk that made her giggle. 

“I love you, you know? Always.” 

She squeezed his hand. “Always.” 


	155. Asra x Julian 18.

Asra tugged at Julian’s coat, yanking him down to the floor next to him as he tried to flee. “ _Dammit_ , Ilya! Stop, I beg you!”

Julian stared at him with wide, tear-brimmed eyes, the sounds of their screams echoing in the distance, the bitter taste of smoke upon his tongue. “But he’s going to di—“

Asra turned his face away, his hand covering his mouth in an attempt to hold back a low, keening sob. “Don’t,” he whispered, broken.

Julian dragged his fingers through his hair, leaning back against the wall and wrapping an arm around Asra’s shaking shoulders, pulling him against his side. “He’s going to be fine. It’ll all be fine,” he lied.

He wouldn’t sit here and do nothing as he witnessed Asra’s messy unraveling, the sight of it so foreign, so out of character. Though, he supposed the enchanting golden eyed boy had always had a way of making Asra act differently, irrationally.

He had selfish reasons for wanting to save him, save him for Asra, so  _fucking_  selfish, but he had to. There was no other way.

Asra pulled his knees to his chest and buried his face against them, sniffling loudly, before lifting his head to stare at Julian, flinching as another chorus of broken, choking screams fluttered through the hallway outside.

They would find them soon. They would find them, and they would kill them too. The others were too weak to put up a fight, too broken, on the verge of death, death that Julian now had the power to prevent.

He growled, loud and frustrated and  _rumbling_ , reaching out to cup his hands either side of Asra’s, beautiful (so, painfully beautiful) tear-streaked face. “Listen to me,” he snarled, his lips curling over his teeth. “Go to the dungeon, gather all of my things. My… my notes, everything you need is in my notes. Page uhhh…  _seventy_! Yes, seventy.”

Asra blinked up at him, violet eyes red-rimmed, still sparkling with unshed tears. “I can’t! You—”

“No. I’m going to hold them off for as long as I can. I’m going to find him and bring him to you, and you’re going to get the cure, and all of this will be over, okay?”

Asra stared at him in disbelief for a moment before a soft smile crossed his lips, like the sun breaking through storm clouds, like a revelation. He reached up, gently stroking his thumb over Julian’s cheek. “I really did love you, you know. But you will save him, not I.”

Julian frowned, roughly grabbing Asra’s wrist to still his movements. “Asra…”

“ _Stay._ ”

Something heavy and suffocating washed over Julian, his limbs turning to jelly, unable to move or speak or barely bloody  _think_. He’d felt something similar before, a long time ago, Asra’s magic curling around him and squeezing him like a clenched fist.

The witch stood on shaky legs, bending to press a kiss into auburn curls before turning and running straight into the chaos that had engulfed the palace.

Eventually Julian managed to break free of the spell, but it was too late. Too late to save any of them, let alone Asra.

The only thing he could do was burn the ones who had done this to the ground. Burn all of it, until there was nothing left. Nothing.


	156. Asra x Julian 19.

As if his lungs weren’t already weak enough, the thick smoke he was currently inhaling was only heightening his discomfort, the painful,  _sharp_  stab of pain that shot though his chest with each breath becoming unbearable.

He could taste blood, thick and copper on his tongue, each strained heave of his chest an effort as he frantically searched the room for any signs of white hair and violet eyes. The giant figure that released him said that Asra needed him, and as Julian laid eyes upon the burning room he could only think that the worst had happened.

It was futile, pointless. If Asra was in there, he was surely dead, as would anyone else who had been unfortunate enough to be in the Count’s room when it ignited.

Julian reached out, fumbling for the door he’d left open with one had, the other clutching his coat to his face, covering his nose and mouth.

As he stumbled into the hallway he vomited, a quick burst of bile and bright red blood hitting the marble tiles. He gasped for breath, his chest rattling loudly as he fell to his knees, vision blurred, fading.

“ _A—asra_!!!” He cried out, voice a broken, wrecked thing as his lungs failed him, the plague finally ready to claim him, to end all of this.

If he’d just had a few more days down in that dungeon he may have had a chance,  _everyone_  might have. He did it, he found the cure, and it would die with him here in this hallway. He began to cry, hot, angry tears streaking soot-covered cheeks as he felt the life drain from him.

If Asra was dead, what was the point anyway? He only wished he’d had the chance to say goodbye to Pasha.

As he slipped out of consciousness, footsteps rushed around him, servants and guards frantically trying to put out the inferno, the faint, pained wailing of the Countess echoing from down the hallway.

A pair of familiar,  _warm_ , trembling hands suddenly cupped his face, Asra blurring into view, his eyes wide, lips moving, but Julian couldn’t hear a thing thanks to the loud and incessant ringing in his ears.

Asra stood and grabbed him, dragging his limp form into the library across the hallway. He propped him against the wall, rushing to Julian’s desk and gathering a hoard of items up in his arms.

He yelled, slapping Julian across the cheek to keep him awake as his head lulled to the side. “I… it isn’t ready. It’s not…  _shit_. You can’t die on me now, Ilya.”

He was talking to himself, mixing herbs and other ingredients that smelt vaguely like sour milk into a bowl, before drawing a pattern upon Julian’s throat with the sticky mixture.

His white hair levitated as he began to chant, the words foreign,  _old_.

Julian felt something strange and painful wash over him, an intense heat, different to the lick of a flame, bone-deep and  _scorching_.

Asra snapped his eyes open as Julian groaned, reaching to grab his trusty knife from where he kept it in his boot, slicing a shallow cut through his palm, then grabbing Julian’s and doing the same. The cuts trailed right through their lifelines, opening Julian’s old wound from that strange night in the shop that now felt like a lifetime ago.

Asra laced their fingers together, blood on blood, skin on skin. His gaze was intense, pulling Julian back from the brink as he whispered soothing promises, a single tear rolling down his tawny cheek.

The last thing Julian saw before he blacked out was Asra’s beautiful face, a soft, but inherently sad smile crossing his lips.


	157. Asra x Julian 20.

Asra cracked an eye open, squinting as he adjusted to the sun streaming through the windows.

Julian was sat upright, sheets pooled around his bare waist, brow knitted in confusion, eyes frantically flickering around the tiny bedroom.

Asra groaned, stretching his limbs as he slowly sat up, rubbing his eyes and attempting to stifle a yawn. He was by no means a ‘morning person’, and he’d forgotten how restless Julian could be.

“Ilya, it’s early, come back to bed.”

Julian’s head snapped around, his mismatched eyes wide, startled. “Um…”

Asra smiled softly, reaching to place a hand upon his thigh beneath the sheets, his skin warm, welcoming. “Just another hour, come on.”

He snuggled back down against his pillow, gazing up at Julian through long, white lashes. He sighed, yawning again as Julian slowly settled beside him, his eyes still comically wide as he stared at the ceiling.

Asra sidled up to him, slinging a leg over Julian’s, tangling their limbs together to steal his warmth, pressing his face into the crook of his neck. He smelled divine, like freshly fallen rain and leather and  _Julian_.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he mumbled, lips pressed against his skin.

Julian turned his head, his breath rustling Asra’s hair. He finally seemed to relax slightly as Asra’s fingertips began to trail through the smattering of coarse hair upon his chest.

He took a deep breath, and if Asra knew him at all, an influx of nonsense was about to come out of his mouth.

“Well, you see, I’m finding it hard, wait… no, I mean…” he sighed, clicking his tongue as he contemplated his next sentence. “Okay. I just… we never really gave it, ‘it’ being a relationship, a go before. It was just… you know,  _sex_ , which was great. Really great, but then there were feelings and…”

He continued his rambling, but instead of getting annoyed and zoning out, instead of rolling his eyes and finding something better to do, Asra  _listened_. He listened and he smiled, finding something charming in Julian’s incoherent babbling. He was baring his innermost thoughts to Asra in the only way he knew how; by not stopping, not allowing himself the time to think.

“… so, I mean… the sex bit is easy because it’s us and, well, there’s something between us that makes  _that_  mind blowing, incredible. It’s the uhhh… the other stuff. The feelings, of which there are many. Many feelings, a whole boatload of feelings.”

Asra lifted his gaze, staring intently at the pretty mouth that spewed all these words.

“I just want to do it right this time. I don’t want you to… uhhh hate me? Again? Because I was hard to be around, and I think we both hurt each other.” He lowered his voice, becoming less frantic. “I know you’re not perfect, as much as I like to think you are, and I’m  _definitely_  not perfect. But, Asra, I kind of think we could be perfect together, and that… that  _terrifies_  me. So… there’s that.”

Asra processed his words, his lips twitching into a smile that couldn’t be suppressed. He propped himself up onto his elbows, leaning towards Julian, their gaze locking. He reached up to push a lock of red curls behind Julian’s ear, studying his perfectly imperfect features.

He was really quite beautiful, especially when the sun hit him just like it was right now, shadows dancing upon pale skin, making the sharp edges of his cheekbones look even sharper somehow.

_I could really love you._

Julian flushed under his silent scrutiny, but his gaze didn’t waiver like it may have before. He’d changed, and Asra felt something blossom in his chest, a warmth spreading, blooming into something that definitely felt a lot like love.

“Ilya, just… kiss me.”

Julian’s lips formed a smile, and long, elegant fingers brushed over Asra’s cheek, tracing his features before pushing into cloud-white hair, tugging him close.

As their lips met, Asra swore he could feel all of Julian’s worries float away. He said all he needed to say as their mouths moved together, stars flowing through his veins like the birth of a new galaxy, a new beginning.

Together.


	158. Julian x m!Apprentice 80.

Julian’s smug smirk faded as Finn leaned closer, the soft furs and heat from the fire slowly thawing their frozen limbs.

He breathed Finn in, wrapping his arms around those broad shoulders, the warmth radiating from his big body soaking into Julian. He was like sunshine, Julian greedily basking in his rays, gravitating towards him without a second thought.

Finn bit his lower lip, hungry eyes firmly fixed on Julian’s mouth. “Your lips are blue.” He reached up, running his knuckles across the sharp line of Julian’s jaw, his touch feather-light, gentle. “We’d better warm them up,” he said, his voice husky.

Julian hummed his agreement, stroking his hands through soft, raven hair as he pulled Finn in, their mouths brushing together in an almost-kiss, Julian smiling as Finn surged forward, growling as Julian pulled away at the last second.

“Tease.”

Julian shrugged, his long fingers tangling in the soft hair at the nape of Finn’s neck, cupping his skull. “Have to keep you on your toes, my love.”

Those eyes locked onto him, drinking him in, causing Julian to exhale sharply, just…  _overwhelmed_  as he hitched his leg over Finn’s waist, straddling his hips.

Finn leaned back, fingers tangling in the fur rug, holding on tight as he rode out Julian’s full-body writhe,  _groaning_  indecently. He shuddered as Julian pushed his hands up under his shirt, long fingertips stroking all that bare skin and, oh…  _muscles_.

Finn laughed as Julian moaned loudly, his silver eye hooded, cheeks painted pink. “You’re just… uhm. Wow,” Julian sighed, as if he’d forgotten how ridiculously perfect he was beneath all those unnecessary clothes.

“Come here,” Finn smiled, cocking his head; an invitation.

Julian gratefully obliged, splaying his palms upon Finn’s chest as he pushed forward, finally pressing their lips together, both of them relaxing into the kiss like it was what they’d been waiting for,  _craving_ their whole lives.

Finn sat up abruptly, big hands sliding down Julian’s spine, mapping his shifting muscles, tipping him back and carefully laying him upon the furs, hovering above him as they kissed.

Julian was rapidly getting turned on, Finn placed neatly between his thighs, his legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him flush, seaming them together.

Scourge be damned, Julian wanted him, and he wanted him  _now_.

He broke away, gasping for breath, Finn’s eyes still closed, seemingly still lost in the moment. “I’m… I’m warm now,” Julian whispered, his voice throaty, broken.

Finn huffed a laugh, pressing their foreheads together as Julian’s hands reached around to cup his perfect ( _really_ , seriously perfect) ass. “Oh, you won’t be needing me then?”

Julian arched his eyebrow. “I’ll always need you,” he purred, craning his neck to catch his lips in another kiss. He whined as Finn thrust his tongue deep into his mouth, his hips reflexively bucking up, fingers tugging at Finn’s shirt.

Finn grabbed his wrist, pinning it above his head. “Ah, ah. As much as I wish… we can’t.”

Julian pouted, brow furrowed. “Damn the bloody Scourge. He can cut my head off for all I care.” He continued his attempt to remove Finn’s clothes, the fabric merely an infuriating barrier, keeping him from all that skin.

Finn grabbed his other wrist, both of his hands above his head now, gathered up in one big hand, Finn’s fingers gripping him hard enough to bruise, just the way he liked it.

Julian writhed beneath him, Finn narrowing his eyes, trying to hide the fact that he was clearly aroused, just as desperate as Julian, clear due to the obvious hardness that rasped against Julian’s stomach as he moved.

“Behave for once, I beg you. I’d quite like to not get my head chopped off for copulating on his rug.”

“Aren’t I supposed to be the one who does the begging?”


	159. Julian x m!Apprentice 81.

Finn slid beneath the soft bedsheets, the warm lure of Julian’s skin drawing him in as he pressed close, nuzzling his nose against the soft hairs at the nape of his neck.

Julian tensed, the muscles in his back twitching as Finn tugged at him to turn over, to face him.

“What’s wrong?”

Julian sighed, slowly, reluctantly turning, his cheeks painted a deep pink,  _two_  silver eyes gazing back into Finn’s gold.

Finn exhaled sharply, still not over the beauty of him. “ _Oh,”_ he breathed, adjusting to the absence of the eyepatch and smiling softly.

He could wax lyrical about how perfect he thought Julian was, or mumble romantic nonsense about how he wanted to spend the rest of his life with him, no matter what,  _but_ , he chose to press forward instead, swallowing away whatever syrupy words sat on the tip of his tongue with a kiss.

Julian gasped against his mouth, instantly relaxing and rocking closer, lips parting in earnest. Finn was gentle, careful not to overwhelm him, pulling away to trail feather-light kisses down the column of his neck, sucking a gentle bruise to the hollow of his throat.

Julian whimpered, his hands fisted in raven locks as he pressed Finn closer, always wanting more. They easily lost themselves in each other, eager hands fumbling, seeking that release they so desperately craved.

Finn was hard and ready and  _right there_  as he positioned himself between Julian’s parted thighs, Julian frowning as their eyes locked, dropping his gaze and self consciously pulling his hair over his right eye.

“Hey,” Finn mumbled, circling Julian’s wrist with careful fingers. “Please don’t hide from me, I want to see you, exactly as you are.”

“I’m…” Julian began slowly, reluctantly looking up at Finn through dark lashes, “I’m a monster.”

Finn’s brows drew together, his mouth set in a hard line. “You’re no monster,” he whispered, brushing his fingers down along the sharp line of Julian’s cheek. “You’re beautiful. Let me see you, Julian.”

He edged forward slightly, eliciting a delighted groan from Julian as he pressed inside gently, tipping his forehead to rest against Julian’s, his gaze intense, unwavering as he showed him just how beautiful he thought he was.

Julian’s jaw fell lax, lips parted in a noiseless gasp as Finn filled him, that lock of hair falling away from his marred eye, and he could no longer find the time to care.

“Finn…” Julian breathed, overwhelmed as Finn began to move above him,  _inside_  him, that golden gaze relentless, burning into him like liquid fire, stealing the breath from his lungs. “ _Finn…_ ”

Finn ran his palm up the solid line of Julian’s thigh, fingers coming to rest upon his hip, gripping him tightly. “ _Yes,_ ” he whispered, his voice hoarse, broken, knowing exactly what Julian was trying to say, feeling it in his bones.

 _I love you_.

They both moaned, a delicious chorus as Finn pulled back, then sheathed himself to the hilt in one swift and precise thrust, Julian’s eyes fluttering shut.

“Open your eyes,” Finn purred. “I want to see you, always.”

He brushed his thumb along the soft skin just below Julian’s eye as his lashes parted, the tenderness in his touch making Julian’s vision blur with tears.

Finn flushed, a rare and  _beautiful_  sight that made Julian’s lips twitch into a smile, his hands stroking down Finn’s spine, sinew twitching under perfect, soft skin, shuddering beneath Julian’s fingertips.

“I’m…  _I’m_ …”

“Yes,” Julian nodded. “ _God_ , me too.”

They both felt it, the unmistakable heat pooling in the pit of their stomachs, spiralling and swirling out in messy waves as Finn’s expert thrusts became unsteady, chasing that feeling.

He reached between them, deft fingers fisting Julian’s length, sliding and  _slick_ as he stroked him. Finn’s breath stuttered in his chest as he fell apart, lost in a pair of silver and crimson eyes.

Julian relished in the feeling of being filled, the feeling of Finn’s hips flush against his own, the  _sight_  of him sweat-slick and perfect above him, the candlelight illuminating every dip and delicious curve of tight, defined muscle.

His back arched up off the mattress in a sinuous bow, lips mumbling incoherencies as he spilled out over Finn’s fingers and onto his own stomach, Finn hissing as he rocked against his sensitive length, still buried deep inside that tight heat.

Finn laughed, pinning his hips to the bed in an attempt to still his shamelessly writhing form. “Ah! Julian…” he warned, a lilt of playfulness in his husky voice.

Julian smirked, propping himself up onto his elbows, lips but a breath away from Finn’s, suddenly very aware that he was studying him intently. “Um…” he mumbled, twisting to reach for his eyepatch.

“No! Don’t,” Finn smiled. “When told you that you’re beautiful, I meant it.”

Julian groaned, covering his face with his hands as he fell back against the pillow. “Stop being so infuriatingly wonderful, I’m begging you.”

Finn snorted, wincing as he pulled away from Julian to lay by his side, grabbing him and pulling him close. “Idiot.”

Julian peeked at him through his fingers, trying, and failing to hide a smile. “Yes, but I’m  _your_  idiot, right?”


	160. Julian x m!Apprentice 82.

As they stepped back into the glowing room, Finn’s gaze immediately fixed upon Julian. He looked… confused, startled, even.

“Julian?”

The doctor shook his head as if he were clearing his thoughts, his silver eye wide as he took a quick step forward.

“Finn! Who…  _who_ is this big brute? Did he try to hurt you?”

Finn watched Julian’s guard go up, his stance confrontational.

 _Oh boy, no more fighting today, please._.

He didn’t fancy seeing Muriel beat the crap out of Julian, no matter how resilient he was.

Before he could think about stepping between Julian and an increasingly annoyed looking Muriel, something caught Finn’s eyes upon the gladiators back.

It looked inherently familiar, the same as the mark that glowed on the sharp edge of Julian’s throat. It was bright, shimmering in the dull light, before flickering out, fading to nothing.

Finn caught Muriel’s eye, reaching out a hand to stop Julian from advancing upon him. “Wait!”

Julian stopped, confused, alert, his lips pulled back over his teeth in a snarl. “Finn?”

Finn turned back to Muriel, his brow furrowed. “That… the mark. How?”

Julian took his outstretched hand, tugging him close protectively.

Muriel frowned, his dark eyes hidden by a curtain of tangled obsidian hair. He grimaced, averting his gaze, almost looking ashamed. “I asked for this. That’s all you need to know.”

Finn stepped forward, fed up and  _pissed off_. He’d had enough. Enough of being left in the dark, of not being able to help Julian while everyone around them gave them the run-around, creating more questions rather than providing answers.

He squared up to Muriel, feeling minute before his hulking form, Julian grabbing at the back of his shirt desperately, trying to tug him away. “ _Finnegan_.”

Finn swatted him away, golden eyes determined, firmly fixed upon Muriel. “No. You’re going to tell me. You’re going to help us,” he hissed.

He felt something bloom in his chest as Julian laced their fingers together, squeezing lightly, grounding him.

Muriel looked… scared.

Finn realised, swiftly standing down, taking a step back and softening his hardened gaze. “I’m just looking for answers here.  _Please_. We need your help. I… I’m just trying to save him, and I think you could be important in all of this.”

Muriel’s eyes flickered from Finn to Julian, then back to Finn. His shoulders slumped as he turned his back on them to stoke the fire. He turned his head slightly, enough so that Finn could see the eerie way the shadows from the flames danced upon tanned, scarred skin.

“I’ll help you.”


	161. Asra x Julian 21.

”Stop doing that.”

Julian glared up at Asra where he was stood looming over them, arms folded right across his chest, brow fixed in a deep frown. “I’m not doing anything, I’m just holding her!”

Asra rolled his eyes and reached for the tiny bundle, huffing when Julian swatted him away, waking the baby with his movements. She began to grumble, which then quickly escalated into a full-blown screaming fit, her chubby cheeks turning bright red with the effort.

Julian stood, carefully swaying her from side-to-side. “Now look what you’ve done!”

Asra ran to grab her favourite toy; a little Faust that Mazelinka had knitted for her. He leaned in close, placing the soft snake to her cheek as he made kissing noises, quietly hushing her.

Wide, curious eyes stared up at him, her tears subsiding. She reached out to curl tiny fingers around Asra’s thumb, her lips forming a perfect little smile.

Julian’s heart melted, a warmth blooming deep in his chest as he watched their daughter burst into musical giggles, just as enchanted by her father as he was. He’d never seen Asra happier, had never  _been_  happier himself, and, in that moment, he couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else.

Asra smiled, wide and  _beautiful_ , winding his arm around Julian’s waist and squeezing him tightly. He rest his head upon Julian’s shoulder, both of them gazing at her, full of wonder as she drifted off into dreamland, long lashes kissing the tops of her still-flushed cheeks.

”She’s perfect.”

Julian nodded, tearing his gaze from her to stare into those vivid violet eyes. “She is.”


	162. Asra x f!Apprentice 3.

Introducing my female MC, Aurora. You can learn more about her (and her creepy demon familiar) [here.](drdevorakwrites.tumblr.com/tagged/aurora%woodridge)

* * *

 

He’d managed to avoid her for a few days now, avoiding anywhere he might bump into her for his own good. He knew he’d be weak if he laid eyes on her, knew he’d fall to his knees and beg for forgiveness.

So, when Aurora stormed into the Raven, eyes angry and fists clenched, he knew he was fucked.

He knew she was  _really_  mad when she bit her lip, and on this occasion it was practically bleeding. She was a force of nature, a lightening bolt looking for somewhere to strike.

She was practically vibrating, the faintest charge of electricity crackling at her fingertips. She took a deep breath and the magic faded, her clear-blue gaze angrily fixed upon him. “So you’ve been drinking yourself to death?”

She gestured at the table full of empty tankards, Julian unable to offer her anything other than a weak shrug, a shrug he immediately regretted as her rosebud lips turned up in a snarl.

Selfishly, all he wanted to do was kiss her,  _really_  kiss her, regardless of what she might think about it in this place and time, regardless of how furious it would make her. He’d gone without the taste of her on his tongue for too long, the feel of her bare skin against his a distant, fading memory.

She huffed, nostrils flared and skinny arms firmly fixed on her hips. “Well? What do you have to say for yourself?”

He didn’t have the words, couldn’t bloody  _think_  with her here in front of him, so devastatingly gorgeous he wanted to cry. He stood, telling himself to leave, flee, get  _out_. Anything to keep her safe, even if it meant breaking her heart all over again. His heart could take it, it was already shattered into messy, jagged shards.

Long, white-blonde hair fell in a curtain around her face as she averted her gaze, a flash of pain, of  _fear_  crossing her features as he passed.

They stood for a moment, back to back, Julian’s fingers twitching with an itch, an urge to reach out and touch. So he did. He grabbed her by the shoulders and he kissed her,  _really_ kissed her, and he felt like he was falling apart.

Aurora didn’t fight it, instead sinking into it with a broken sob that he greedily swallowed. It felt like she had picked the stars from the sky and let them flood through his veins, his whole body alight.

Then, she pushed him away forcefully, so much strength in that tiny body, her cheeks streaked with tears. He’d never seen her cry before. She touched shaking fingers to her lips, her eyes refusing to meet his.

“Aurora…”

She stopped him with a raised hand, inhaling sharply. “I woke up three weeks ago and realised that I love you,” she said, her eyes brighter than ever.

“You…  _love_ me?” He frowned, terrified, because he loved her too, of  _course_  he did. He was just a fool, a coward.

“And you love me, I know you do, Julian. So stop being so  _fucking_ stubborn and let me help you!” She bit her lip, noticing more than a few sets of eyes upon them, the Raven suddenly very quiet. “I cannot promise we will be forever, but I can promise not to hurt you.”

And what could he say to that? What could match it? The answer was nothing. Instead, he took a careful step forward, scared out of his mind but finally,  _finally_ , for once in his pathetic life, he listened. He reeled her in, the rush of his lips meeting hers making him whimper, long fingers immediately pushing into his auburn curls, tugging too-tight like she always did, driving him to madness.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, smiling softly as she raised up on her tiptoes, silencing him with a mumbled ‘shut up’ before she pressed her lips to his once again.


	163. Julian x f!Apprentice 6.

Julian often paced the dock if he couldn’t sleep, slinking out into the night to stare at the place where the source of his shame and failures lay, a desolate and dark shadow upon the horizon.

He stopped in his tracks as he came to his usual spot, a white-haired girl sitting with her bare feet skimming the surface of the sea, dressed in all-black like she always was, her pale skin bright through patches of lace.

Aurora was talking to herself, or…  _him_ , probably. Asra has told Julian of her companion, and Julian had scoffed at the thought, believing magic had finally driven the witch mad. Alas, he’d always been curious.

He made sure his footsteps were heard as he approached her, sky-blue eyes flashing in the darkness as she turned to greet him. “Ilya,” she nodded, turning back to gaze upon the Lazaret.

He sat beside her, enough of a gap between them so she wouldn’t feel crowded. “Do you come here a lot?”

She frowned, her dark brows set in a deep furrow. She shook head, dropping her gaze to the sea. “Armaros wanted to come.”

The demon. So, she was either  _definitely_  crazy, or there really was a demon sat beside her, either answer making Julian shudder. He sucked in a breath and closed his eyes, he had to  _know_. “Can… may I meet him?”

She raised an elegant hand to her mouth to stifle a quick laugh, her long black nails stark against pink lips. Her eyes flickered to her side, to him? “Are you sure, Ilya? You’re not fond of magic, this is… it may scare you.”

He swallowed thickly, palms clammy beneath his gloves. He bit his bottom lip, hoping his voice came out steady as he felt dread bubbling deep in the pit of his stomach. “I’m sure.”

She quirked an eyebrow, smirking mischievously, so painfully beautiful that Julian couldn’t help but to offer her a crooked grin in return. She reached out her hand and wiggled her fingers. “I need bare skin.”

Julian removed one of his gloves, Aurora curiously eyeing the stark murderers brand before lacing their fingers together and closing her eyes. “Ostende te.”

A dull shimmer washed over him, a shiver running down his spine as he blinked away a blinding blur. When he opened his eyes, he saw him. Tall,  _towering_ high above the tiny girl beside him, a small pair of pointed horns making him appear even grander in stature. A shadowy arm was wrapped around her shoulder protectively, sharp talons resting lightly over black lace.

His presence didn’t alarm Julian once he adjusted to the initial shock, he was strangely calming, seemingly harmless. “Does… does he speak?”

Aurora shook her head, looking up at the demon with a fond, gentle smile. “Only I can hear him,” she tapped a finger to her temple. “In here.”

Armaros turned his head, his shadowy form now fully apparent, swirls of what looked like the blackest smoke dancing around him in tendrils. He opened his eyes, two huge, endless pools of glowing white staring down at Julian. He nodded once in greeting, before turning to look at the Lazaret once again, matching Aurora’s pining gaze.

”Are you okay?”

Julian cleared his throat, nodding but still not entirely convincing.

She smiled, nudging him with her elbow. “Hey, don’t tell Asra I showed you, okay?”

”I swear,” he said, joining both of them in gazing upon the place where all of their lives had been twisted and changed irrevocably.


	164. Julian x m!Apprentice 83.

Finn leaned over the counter, carefully counting the various jars of herbs, spices and other ingredients. He scribbled on a crumpled piece of parchment, making note of what would need to be replenished.

Julian wandered into the room, bare-chested and definitely looking for attention as he ‘casually’ stretched, long, lean arms rising high above is head. “I’m bored.”

Finn chuckled, shaking his head and returning to the task in hand, turning to start on the shelves. “I haven’t done this in forever, if I leave it any longer Asra may just kill me.”

Julian scoffed, sliding through the gap in the counter to join him, snaking his arms around Finn’s waist and resting his chin upon his shoulder. “Come on, let’s do something. Please?”

Finn turned in his embrace, their noses brushing as Julian leaned in, playfully dipping him backwards. Finn swatted him away, laughing dizzily as he tried to ignore Julian’s attempts at distracting him. “Julian! Later.”

He started to finalise his list, trying his best to ignore Julian’s looming presence. Well, at least until Julian decided to drop to his knees, deft hands making quick work of untying Finn’s trousers.

Finn liked to think of himself as a strong man, but when those long,  _long_  fingers dipped inside and circled his cock, he was weak.

He leaned forward, gripping the edge of the counter, white-knuckling as Julian took him into his mouth. That tight,  _slick_  heat engulfing him, making him see stars as Julian greedily licked the crown, talented tongue swirling gently before he took him right down to the root.

Finn groaned, eyes flickering to the definitely  _not_  locked front door as he reached down to grab a fistful of auburn curls, the messy strands snarling about his fingertips. “You…” he growled. “ _Ugh_!”

Julian groaned around him, the vibration of it reverberating right through Finn, heat pooling and spreading in his abdomen as Julian picked up his pace. He fisted the base, stroking in time with the dip of his head, the twin sensations swiftly tipping Finn over the edge as he came hot and thick inside Julian’s mouth, shuddering as Julian swallowed every drop, pulling back with a sinful  _pop_.

Hooded silver eyes met Finn’s gold, a satisfied smirk plastered on his handsome face as he gazed up at him, bare-chested and glorious. “Now can we do something?”

The bell above the door rang, one of Finn’s many regulars entering with a smile. He quickly righted himself, tucking his shirt back in and pushing Julian’s head down, stifling a laugh as the old woman greeted him. “Finnegan! So lovely to see you, you look positively glowing.”

Julian’s eye grew wide, his cheeks flushing under the strain of stifling his own laughter.


	165. Asra x f!Apprentice 4.

Aurora giggled as they ascended the stairs, leaving puddles and wet footprints in their wake. She fell to the floor as Asra searched for some dry towels, throwing one in her direction as he attempted to dry his hair, proceeding to peel off his soaked-through clothes.

Aurora crinkled her nose in disgust as she threw her waterlogged boots aside, reaching for the zip at the back of her dress. “Um, Asra? A little assistance?” She pleaded, awkwardly twisting her body around and presenting her back to him.

He tried not to notice the way her eyes lingered upon his bare chest, nor the way her cheeks flushed as they traveled lower. He gathered himself, sitting beside her and reaching with shaking fingers to tug at the zip, parting the black material to reveal flawless milky-white skin.

His breath caught in his throat as his fingertips brushed along the base of her spine, a shudder rolling over her as he retracted his touch. “Sorry.”

She stood and stepped out of the sodden garment, boldly kicking it aside. She was naked, unashamedly baring herself to him, perpetually rosy lips tugged between her teeth. “Asra…”

Her voice was soft, almost a whisper, an edge of breathlessness to it that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He stood, gravitating towards her helplessly, caught in her pull. He reached out and ran the back of his hand down her arm, gooseflesh prickling in it’s wake.

Aurora stepped forward, closing the gap between them, their slowly warming bodies seamed tight. She was  _breathtaking_ , the most beautiful creature he’d ever laid eyes on. Their time apart had been nothing short of unbearable, and being so close but unable to touch had almost killed him off. But now she stood before him, sky-blue eyes burning into violet, bare and beautiful and  _finally_ asking to be his all over again.

She exhaled sharply as he reached up to push her hair behind her ears, dark lashes kissing the tops of flushed cheeks. She rarely blushed these days, and he’d almost forgotten how enchanting it was to watch the colour dance under her skin. “Tell me you want this.”

She closed her eyes as he ran his fingertips over her lips, her breathing quickening. “ _Yes_. More than anything.”

He swiftly picked her up, quite literally sweeping her off her feet, drawing a gasp from the back of her throat as he pressed her down against the mattress, covering her as their lips finally,  _finally_  met.

It was as if he’d finally found himself, lost for so long without  _this_ , fitting so perfectly in the welcome crux of her thighs, her hands gently tangled in soft, white curls. She arched up against him, hooking her leg around his waist and yanking him closer, the press of his erection burning like a brand against her hip.

Her eyes flew open, gaze locking with his as she broke the kiss, a delicate hand reaching between them to circle long fingers around his cock, watching him intently as she did so.

She groaned, stroking once, twice, carefully pulling him closer, reeling him in. “Please, I need you. I love you.”

_I know. You always have. This is how it’s always been, you just don’t remember._

He pushed his intrusive thoughts aside, focusing back on the beautiful girl,  _his_  girl that lay beneath him. He reached down and gently parted her thighs, running a digit over that slick heat, hissing when he felt how ready she was, relishing in the little gasps she poorly attempted to stifle.

They finally connected, the feel of her surrounding him, of flush hips, her heel digging into the base of his spine, nails clawing at his shoulder, all of it achingly familiar, yet not at all the same.

She gasped against his lips as he began to move, a slick, sensual glide that drove them both to madness. She quickly fell apart by his hand, her eyes never leaving his, a certain desperation bubbling up and out as she came, his name falling breathlessly from her lips.

All hope was lost as he watched her, the erratic, stuttering writhe of her hips pushing him swiftly over the edge. She greedily swallowed his moans with a kiss, her hand cupped over the curve of his skull, fingers idly stroking the hair at the nape of his neck. It was a habit she’d developed long ago, one that was so clearly ingrained in her that she did it without thinking.

He buried his face into her neck, inhaling the scent of rain and sex and  _her_. It had all happened so fast, so effortlessly, that he was positive magic had been at play. They’d surely fallen back in time, an accidental whispered incantation that restored things to how they used to be.

She turned her head to press a kiss into his hair, long nails scratching gentle patterns down his spine. “Are you okay?”

He rolled next to her, fiddling with a wet strand of white-blond hair, a lazy smile crossing his lips. “Perfect.”


	166. Finn x Alkar x Julian 3.

Finn narrowed his eyes at Alkar, waiting for an explanation. All the man could offer him was a weak shrug, a guilty smile on his lips.

”You sent me on a wild goose chase! I nearly got arrested  _twice_ ,” Finn huffed, striding forward to brush past a still-sheepish Alkar, bending to inspect Julian. He seemed intact, all fingers and limbs present. “So,” he sighed, turning to face the man that had swiftly become the bane of his life, but also infuriatingly the object of his desire. “What were you hoping to achieve?”

Alkar bit his lip. “I… I just wanted to see you,  _okay?_  Don’t make a big deal out of it,” he huffed, shoving his hands in his pockets, defiant and hilariously stubborn.

Finn looked down at Julian who rolled his eyes. “I don’t know why you’re staring at me, I’m the victim here.”

Finn scoffed. “Yeah, you looked  _really_  scared with his tongue in your mouth. Alkar, if you want to see me you know where I live, you’ve broken in enough times not to need an invitation.”

Alkar’s dark-eyes flickered up to meet Finn’s, shifting back and forth between him and Julian. He looked nervous, like he wanted to say something but had been rendered incapable. “I’m not uhhh… good with words? Shit. Um. Yes.”

Finn couldn’t help but smile, stepping forward to crowd Alkar’s space, reaching up to push his messy hair from his face. “You’re an idiot.”

Alkar grinned, wide and toothy, gratefully leaning in to Finn’s touch. “Well… yeah?”

Finn closed the gap between them, Alkar’s lips warm against his own, the kiss soft, different.

Julian dramatically cleared his throat behind them. “Uhh, can you untie me please!”

Finn reluctantly broke the kiss, shaking his head at Julian. “Not a chance. You really think we’re done with you?”


	167. Finn x Omen 1.

Omen belongs to [shokujin-shot ](shokujin-shot.tumblr.com)

* * *

 

 

Finn entered the shop as quietly as he could, wincing when the heavy oak door clicked loudly as the old hinges settled into place. He paused, waiting for the inevitable irritated groan that would flutter down the stairs from a disturbed, sleepy Omen.

After a few silent moments, he was satisfied his partner hadn’t been woken up, proceeding to splay his palm upon the wood and let his wards fix into place. The gentle hum and flicker of magic assurin him the shop was safe and sound.

It was late, and all he’d been dreaming about all day was sliding beneath soft sheets and wrapping himself around Omen, stealing his warmth and finally getting the rest he so desired.

He removed his boots and tip-toed up the stairs, expertly avoiding any creaky steps, having memorised them after many a scalding from a grumpy, sleep-deprived Omen.

At six foot two, and built like he was, it was an effort for him to be delicate as he came to the rickety landing. He peeked through the gap in the bedroom door and spoted Omen laying upon the bed, legs and arms haphazardly flung in all directions, face buried in between their two pillows, his hair a tangled, ridiculous mess.

He smiled to himself, carefully pushing inside the room, praying that the old door didn’t creak. He’d made it this far…

He quietly removed his shirt and trousers,  _slowly_  lowering down onto the mattress, trying to figure out exactly how the hell he would fit when Omen was taking up the majority of the space. For such a small human, it really was an impressive achievement.

After a few tactical manoeuvres, he finally squeezed in beside him, wiggling closer to him in an attempt to not fall out of the bed. Omen turned to face Finn, his eyelids frantically dancing in his dreams.

Finn watched the slow rise and fall of Omen’s back, unable to prevent a smile from crossing his lips as he reached out to  _carefully_ brush a stray lock of hair from his face, wanting to get a better look at him.

Before he could even think about retracting his hand, Omen had woken with a start, a growl rumbling in his throat as he straddled Finn’s waist, the edge of his sword pressed against Finn’s jugular.

Finn’s magic flickered to life instinctively, defensively, his golden eyes glowing in the darkness as Omen pinned him.

He could see realization cross Omen’s face, his eyes growing comically wide, the cold, unwelcome press of steel upon his throat disappearing as he let his weapon clang to the ground. “Shit shit  _shit_!,” Omen mumbled, pressing warm hands to Finn’s face, seemingly checking for injuries. “I’m so sorry! I thought… shit!”

Finn pushed himself up onto his elbows, quirking an eyebrow at the flushing, stuttering mess of man. “You keep your sword in our  _bed_?”

“Really?  _That_  is the first thing that comes to mind after I almost just slit your throat?”

Finn shrugged, offering Omen a crooked grin. “I trusted you not to make the killing blow. In fact, it was  _kind_  of hot.”

Omen swatted his chest playfully, groaning in embarrassment. His cheeks bloomed a delightful shade of red, the colour spreading down and over his chest. He covered his face with his hands, shaking his head. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled, the words muffled against his palms.

Finn chuckled, tugging at his wrists and pulling them away from his face. “Don’t be, it’s fine. I’m sorry I woke you… again.” He caught Omen around the waist, rolling him into his back in one, swift movement, relishing in the startled little sound he made. He pinned him to the bed, settling comfortably above him as he gazed down at him fondly.

He was warm, soft skin so inviting that Finn couldn’t help but sink against him, pushing his fingers into his soft but messy hair and scratched his scalp lightly. Omen hummed his appreciation. “That’s nice. I’ll try to murder you more often if this is what I get in return.”

“Hey, Omen?”

Omen’s eyes fluttered closed as he leaned gratefully into Finn’s touch, their legs tangling together beneath the sheets. “Mmmhmm?”

Finn moved closer, running his nose along the sharp line of Omen’s jaw, dropping his voice to a breathy whisper. “You have something on your neck.”

Omen’s eyes flew open, his brow quirked in question. “I do?” He reached up as if to check, only for Finn to grab his hand, lacing their fingers together as he pinned it to the mattress beside his head.

Finn smirked, biting his bottom lip, getting ready for the inevitable scolding. “Yes,” he purred, pressing his lips to the hollow of his throat. “Me.”

“Ugh. Terrible, just  _terrible_!”

Finn laughed against Omen’s skin, peppering his neck with kisses before pulling back to gaze into those warm, inviting eyes. “Sorry, couldn’t resist.”

Omen tried his best to look exasperated, the smile that twitched at his lips as Finn leaned back in for a kiss a bit of a giveaway.


	168. Asra x f!Apprentice 6.

Aurora was truly a tempting sight, sprawled out across the colourful blanket, white-blonde hair fanned out like a halo around her. Her nightdress clung to every perfect inch of her, the pale cotton ending just above her knees, riding higher,  _higher_  as she shifted.

”Are you coming to bed?” She said, voice impossibly husky, a wicked grin crossing her lips.

She knew full well he’d be unable to resist, and he’d be a fool to want to. He bit the inside of his cheek to stop himself from whimpering at the mere sight of her, weak in her presence, yet praying that he’d have the strength to take his time, to worship her the way she so deserved.

She quietly watched him watch her, bright blue eyes sparkling in the low candlelight as he slowly sank onto the bed. He admired the seductive way long lashes dipped, her gaze following him as he sat between her legs.

She raised her foot, pushing it up and along his thigh, the warmth of her skin burning through the thin fabric of his trousers. He grabbed her ankle before she reached the outline of his obvious election, tutting gently, shaking his head. “Patience.”

”Is a virtue, one I have no desire to hold,” she sighed. “Asra, I  _want_ you.”

Asra crawled over her, reaching to smooth a hand over her cheek, brushing an errant lock of golden hair behind her ear. “I’m already yours, you may need to be a little more specific,” he whispered, lips but a breath away from hers, pulling away with a smile as she attempted to catch them in a kiss.

His heart fluttered painfully in his chest, that incessant  _ache_  that settled around his heart whenever she was near fully present now. He loved her so much he didn’t quite know what to do with himself.

He watched her with intense, violet eyes as he slid a hand over her ribs, suddenly very aware that the thin layer of fabric that separated them needed to  _go_.

Magic balled in his palm, licking at the tips of his fingers as her nightdress disappeared in a flurry of gentle sparks. She laughed breathlessly as he groaned at the sight of her, beautifully bared to him.

He ran his hand along her throat, fingertips ghosting over her clavicle,  _down_ between perfect pink-tipped breasts. She helplessly arched up into his touch, rosebud lips parted on a breath as he continued to map her body, hands slowly worshipping her inch by maddeningly beautiful inch.

His hands continued their descent, sliding down skinny hips, tracing the curve of her thighs, her legs parting shamelessly in welcome. He leaned in to brush his mouth over hers, just a taste, lest he go mad. She whimpered as he pulled away too quickly, the noise alone almost enough to unmake him.

Her eyes fluttered closed, leg hitching around his waist, reeling him in with a heel against his thigh. He hissed as his hips stuttered against hers, his patience all but lost as she arched up against him, pressing her lips to his ear and whispering an incantation in a foreign tongue, the final shred of fabric between them shimmering into the void.

”Abracadabra,” she smirked, winking playfully as she thrust her fingers into his hair and tugged him close, their lips meeting in a quick, crushing kiss. “I’ve got tricks too,” she purred, running her tongue along his jaw.

Asra admitted defeat, sinking into another kiss, completely at her mercy.


	169. Julian x m!Apprentice 84.

“You can check me over, if you desire.”

Finn quirked his eyebrow as Julian shucked his coat, the material pooling at his feet before Finn had even agreed. He couldn’t help but to rake hungry eyes down his torso, a flimsy white shirt, open at the chest, revealing an abundance of delicious, ghost-white skin. “I think I will.”

Julian blanched, his silver eye widening for a moment before a deep flush spread across his cheeks, even kissing the tips of his ears. “Oh. Okay,” he cleared his throat, clearly not expecting Finn to take him up on his offer.

“Then… don’t be shy. I can take it.”

Finn smirked, stepping forward and crowding his space, boldly splaying his palms upon Julian’s broad chest. He made sure his eyes didn’t leave Julian’s as he  _slowly_  dragged his hands down, fingers pressing hard as he traced the deep, curving muscles of his abdomen.

If Finn hasn’t already been insanely attracted to him, this would have certainly done the trick.

A tiny gasp escaped Julian’s lips, the flush growing darker, spilling down over his chest.

“Am I being too rough?”

Julian bit his bottom lip, shaking his head furiously. “No…  _no_ definitely not,” he whispered, voice breathy, broken. “You have quite lovely hands, you know? Quite lovely everything, actually.”

Finn reached his waist, taking a further step closer to press flush against him, positively intoxicated by the closeness, the smell of leather and fresh air filling his nostrils. He’d dreamed of touching him like this, albeit in different circumstances. He gripped his waist, fingers digging in just shy of too-hard as he slid down over his hips.

He slowly bent down, their gazes still locked as he came face to face with Julian’s crotch. He smiled, continuing to run his palms down until he felt something hard in his pocket. “Hmmm,” he mumbled. “Are you—“

“Pleased to see you?” Julian interrupted, his voice even lower. “Well, yes, but that’s not…”

Finn unsheathed the small knife, standing and running his finger along the sharp edge, Julian watching with a certain curious hunger as he did so. Finn tucked the blade back into his pocket roughly, Julian laughing with delight as he swayed.

“Oh, you’re quite strong, aren’t you?” Julian muttered, seemingly to himself.

“I think I’m done,” Finn smirked, his hands still resting on Julian’s hips, their faces close, noses just an inch from touching. “Unless you think I need to be more…  _thorough_?”

Julian whimpered, almost sinking against him, their chests seamed tight, his skin cold through the thin scrap of fabric. “You can be as thorough as you like. It would be such a  _shame_  if you missed something.”

Finn chuckled, more enchanted by the second.

He was falling, and falling  _hard_.


	170. Asra x f! Apprentice 7.

_Who am I to you?_

The question seemed so simple as it spilled from her lips, watching wild violet eyes widen as she waited with bated breath for his answer.

She was fed up. Fed up of being alone, of missing him, of the pathetic longing, of the deep-rooted  _ache_  in her chest that manifested every time he left her behind.

“Every day my love for you grows brighter and brighter, until it consumes me.”

He reached for her, lips continuing to spill his confession, the words washing over her like a caress. It felt like she was floating, unmoored, everything he was saying feeling like a dream.

The vision of his face, features so perfect she was sure she could reach out and touch, leaned in close. “I want you to remember.”

Her heart beat double-time in her chest, almost frighteningly quick. She exhaled sharply as realisation dawned on her.

_He loves me. He loves me. He loves me._

_Oh god…_

She clutched her chest, her knees wobbling, giving way beneath her. She fell to the ground with a thud, stone and gravel and dirt crushing beneath her, biting into her skin, the pain nothing compared to the suffocating feeling that was overwhelming her.

She gripped the edge of the fountain, white-knuckling and  _desperate_ as she sought him out. “Asra…”

The word felt heavy on her tongue, her grip on the fountain falling, fingers digging into the gravel hard enough for her skin to break. She vaguely felt his presence, his voice panicked and far away as her head fell forward, white-blonde hair tumbling around her face in messy snarls.

“Please, look at me,” he sputtered, voice laced with sadness, desperation. “ _No_. Not again.”

She wanted to scream, drawing in a ragged breath, only for the sound to be broken by the sob she struggled to swallow.

She finally managed to look up at him, and she could see her own fear reflected back at her in sad, violet eyes.

“I’m  _sorry_ ,” he choked, closing his eyes as if he was trying to banish the sight of her shattering to pieces from his memory.

Hot tears burned in her eyes, and she angrily brushed them away with shaking fingertips, frustrated as fresh ones immediately took their place.

“…all my fault,” Asra sobbed, Aurora gasping now, feeling as if a fist was clenched around her heart, curled fingers digging and tugging and  _breaking_  it, trying to tear it from the safe cage of her ribs.

“Forget.”

_No, no, no._

_He loves me. He loves me. He loves me._

Phantom lips pressed a warm kiss to her forehead, the touch so tender that it almost eased the pain. She willed herself to cling to his words, to  _remember_  even as she felt his magic flicker over her skin. She was strong, but not strong enough, especially when it came to him.

_Who am I to you?_

She wished she’d never asked. Wished she was still oblivious, silently in love, pining from afar.

Anything other than this.

Then, there was nothing.


	171. Julian x m!Apprentice 85.

Finn heared Julian’s breath catch in his throat as his hand trailed lower,  _lower_ , the doctors long, gloved fingers quickly snatching his wrist. “Stop,” he breathed, barely a whisper, his eyelashes fluttering delicately.

Finn dropped his gaze, eyes trailing the delicate flush that had bloomed upon his heaving chest, following the indecent dip of his shirt that left little to the imagination, the dark lines of his trousers doing little to conceal the obvious, impressive erection that strained against the tight fabric.

”You don’t mean it, do you? Tell me to stop again, and I will.”

Julian swayed where he stood, brushing against Finn, his fingers tightening their grip around his wrist before letting go. “I don’t want you to stop.”

 _God_  this man. He’d appeared in Finn’s dreams every night since they’d met, that sinister smile and his striking silver gaze haunting him, turning his world upside down. He was all he could think about, and maybe if he just got him out of his system…

Finn splayed his palm flat upon Julian’s stomach, feeling solid muscles twitching beneath cool skin. He dragged his hand lower, over the sharp curve of his hips, down, then around, pandering between strong thighs. “I think I’ve found something,” he whispered, shocked at how raspy his voice was, suddenly realising just how turned on and turned around he was. Julian whimpered as his hand brushed along his straining length, his hips helplessly bucking, the tiniest jolt as he sought out more friction.

”That… that’s…” he stammered, choking back a groan as Finn toyed with the waistband of his trousers, daring to dip his fingers inside.

”Do you want to come insi—“

”Yes,” Julian interrupted. “God,  _yes_.”

Finn dragged him towards the door, fumbling to release the wards but not wanting to let go of Julian, lest he slip through his fingers. He had him here, now, and he’d be damned if he was letting go.

They pushed inside, a tangle of desperate limbs, clawing and tugging at one another as Finn pushed him up against the door, deft fingers undoing then tugging down those pesky trousers.

Julian dragged blunt nails through raven hair, scratching his scalp as Finn surged forward, pinning him against the door with the full weight of his body.

Finn grabbed his wrists, holding them in one big hand above his head. He seemed to like the rough way Finn had handled him outside, only driving Finn’s curiosity further. He ran his nose along the sharp edge of Julian’s jaw, proceeding to press a sloppy kiss to the pale hollow of his throat.

Julian was trembling against him, flushed from cheek to cheek, hair beautifully mussed, a picture of depraved perfection. “Please,” he choked out. “ _Please…_ ”

Finn growled, loving the sound of him begging, pleading,  _supplicant_. He curled his fingers around Julian’s cock, stroking and staring in wonder as he watched him unfurl, putty in his hands,  _writhing_  and making noises that would make even the filthiest of minds blush.

He was perfect, and Finn quickly realised how utterly screwed he was. Falling for the Count’s supposed murderer was surely a felony? But, as Julian leaned in and  _nuzzled_  against the crook of his neck, stifling a scream against his skin as he came, Finn found it hard to give a damn.

Finn grabbed his chin, tugging his face up. “Let me see you,” he purred, watching intently as his handsome face contorted, his bottom lip tugged between his teeth. He was positively sinful, and Finn knew in that moment that he would do anything for him,  _anything_  to see that face again.

Unable to leave it at that, he caught his lips in a kiss, reaching up to tug at auburn curls.

It was messy, it was raw, but it was  _wonderful_.


	172. Finn x Omen 2.

Finn was definitely walking a little (a  _lot_ ) faster than he usually would to get back to the shop this evening. He’d managed to convince the barkeep at The Raven to sell him a bottle of his favourite whiskey, and he couldn’t  _wait_ to drink the whole damn thing. He’d told Omen he would be late tonight and not to wait up, all part of his master plan, a plan that involved them getting horribly drunk and falling into bed.

He quietly turned his key in the lock and snuck inside, hearing Omen wandering around up in the bedroom. There was a mess of empty vials and bottles covering the countertops, an abundance of mismatched ingredients, combinations Finn had never seen before mixed together in various bowls.

He frowned, his concern even more apparent as the sound of breaking glass echoed from upstairs, followed by a string of mumbled curses.

He didn’t hesitate, ascending the stairs in just a few leaps and bursting through the bedroom door to find Omen hunched over the dresser, seemingly trying to steady himself as he gripped the edge. Finn reached out to grab his arm, but before he could do so, Omen spun to face him, startled and… different?

He was taller, almost as tall as Finn, a definite shock to the system when Finn was so used to him being more than a few inches shorter. He looked more distinguished, a few more lines around his eyes, stubble prickling at his jaw, just  _older_. His pretty eyes grew wide, mouth opening as if he wanted to say something, but quickly thought better of it.

“Omen? I… what  _happened_?”

Omen closed his eyes, almost looking ashamed, broken glass littering the floor where he stood. “I just like to remember sometimes.”

Finn pondered his words for a second, then… the curse, of  _course_. He closed the gap between them, taking Omen’s hand in his own, lacing their fingers together. He tilted his head to meet Omen’s dropped gaze, urging him to look at him. “You’re gorgeous,” he smiled, honest and open and hoping Omen believed him.

Omen sighed, smiling, but it didn’t meet his eyes. “I was afraid of you seeing me like this, afraid that… that you would be disappointed when I turn back.”

Finn cupped a palm to his cheek, his thumb idly stroking his still-soft skin. “Are you joking? I’d take you in any form. You’re still  _you_ , and that’s really all that matters. Also…  _two_  boyfriends? Jackpot!”

Omen chuckled, pressing his own hand over Finn’s and leaning into his touch gratefully. “Thank you.”

Finn leaned in to press their lips together, pulling away ever-so-slightly. “Though, it  _is_  nice not having to bend down so far to kiss you.”

Omen huffed, playfully swatting his chest before surging back in, winding his arms around Finn’s neck and catching his mouth in a greedy kiss. “This won’t last long you know,” he sighed, pressing their foreheads together.

“That’s okay. I meant what I said, you could turn into a toad and I’d still love you.”

“Liar!” Omen scoffed, crinkling his nose in disgust. “Now, quickly, I’ve almost forgotten what this body feels like, how about you help me remember?”

Finn hummed his agreement, sweeping Omen off his feet with a mischevious grin as they fell in a heap of tangled limbs upon the bed.


	173. Julian x m!Apprentice 86.

A) Muse A notices that a sleeping Muse B is aroused and chooses to wake them up with oral sex.

* * *

 

 

Julian stirred, carefully kicking his legs free of the blankets as he failed to get to sleep yet again. The sun was slowly rising, the bedroom painted with dull hues of oranges and yellows. He turned onto his side, studying Finn’s sleeping face, consistently in awe of how beautiful he was.

He looked so peaceful, his lips twitching into a little smile, eyelids dancing, making Julian wonder what he was dreaming about. It would be cruel to wake him, but all of that bare flesh was just so tempting, the sheets pooled around his naked waist, just low enough that if Julian followed that dark trail of hair that littered his stomach, he would…  _oh_.

Julian whimpered as his eyes fell upon Finn’s cock, hard and  _thick_ between his legs. He bit his lip, contemplating his next move. His need to touch, to  _taste_  selfishly overpowered his desire to let Finn sleep as he crawled down the bed, placing himself between Finn’s thighs.

He gazed upon that big, broad body, each sinful dip and curve of muscle begging to be traced with his tongue. Julian shook himself free of that particular line of thought, focusing back on the task in hand, bending down to press his tongue flat upon that soft,  _warm_ length, licking a wet stripe from root to tip.

Finn groaned in his sleep, his fingers twisting in soft sheets as Julian swirled his tongue up to lave around the crown, before stroking down once more.

Julian whined, the salt-sweet taste of him driving him to madness as he curled long fingers around the base, stroking firmly as he took the head into his mouth.

Finn jolted awake with a choked-off moan, still-sleepy golden eyes staring down at him, his cheeks flushed. “ _Fuck_ ,” he groaned, watching intently as Julian sucked at the tip teasingly before gliding down  _down_ , taking all of him in with an easy swallow.

Finn’s head slammed down against the pillow, his back arching beautifully, pushing himself deeper into the tightness of Julian’s throat. His hands sought out auburn curls, tugging lightly, his abdomen tight as Julian swiftly coaxed him over the edge.

He came with a choked-off cry, toes curling against soft sheets as Julian greedily swallowed around him, pulling away with an obscenely loud,  _wet_  sound.

Finn’s chest heaved, his breath coming in rapid pants. “Good morning,” he mumbled, his voice low, gravel-rough and utterly  _wrecked._

Julian smirked against the soft, warm skin of his stomach, trailing up and pressing a kiss to the place where his heart was definitely trying to escape his chest. “Good morning indeed.”


	174. Julian x m!Apprentice 87.

D) Muse A gets aroused in the middle of the night and tries to quietly relieve themselves by masturbating, not realizing that Muse B is awake and watching 

 

* * *

Julian tossed and turned, so restless in his own skin on this too-hot, Vesuvian night. Both him and Finn had kicked the sheets to the bottom of the bed in an attempt to cool sweat-slick skin, Julian finally deciding his efforts to try and get back to sleep were futile, resigning himself to the fact that tonight would be another night spent counting the cracks in the ceiling. 

Finn had a habit of making these little noises in his sleep, a breathy groan here, a whimper there, even whispering Julian’s name on occasion. Julian liked to think Finn was dreaming of him, the thought causing an ache to bloom deep in his gut, this  _urgent_  thing that was enough to cause him to shift restlessly against the mattress. 

He huffed, taking one glance at the tempting form that lay beside him before giving in, closing his eyes to try and capture the feeling of what he tasted like, sounded like,  _felt_  like. He trailed his hand down his stomach, lower,  _lower_ , letting out a shuddering breath as he curled long fingers around his length, thick and flushed and _aching_  in his palm. 

He bit his tongue in an attempt to stop himself from whimpering as he gripped the base, squeezing  _hard_. He let his eyelids flutter shut, conjuring a visceral image of Finn kneeling over him, those golden eyes glistening, full of mischief, ready to take him. He threw his head against the pillow, his back arching up off the mattress as he thrust up into his fist.

The smallest noise made him open his eyes, turning his head to be greeted by that hungry golden gaze staring at him, _real_ this time as Finn watched him intently, his lips parted on a breath. “Don’tstop,” Finn whispered, edging closer, close enough that his breath was warm upon Julian’s cheek. “I want to see you.” 

Julian nodded slowly, finding it hard to be embarrassed with Finn looking at him like  _that_ , resuming the lazy pace he’d previously set. Finn’s fingers twitched upon the mattress as if he wanted to reach out and touch, to finish him off himself.

“ _Finn_ …” Julian moaned, his voice strangled, broken as Finn edged ever closer, their naked bodies seamed tight, sweat slick between them. 

Finn swallowed thickly,  _panting_  now, just from watching him, his own cock hard and bobbing temptingly against his toned abdomen. “You’re so beautiful, Julian,” Finn purred, seemingly unable to resist any longer, his restraint flying out of the window as he pressed his lips to Julian’s in a crushing, desperate kiss, the final push to coax him over the edge.

Julian swiftly trembled apart, his orgasm rolling over him in messy, thundering waves as he spilled over his fist. Finn greedily swallowed his stuttered cry, pulling back to admire the mess he’d made of himself, a crooked, satisfied grin on his handsome face. 


	175. Asra x Julian 22.

F) Muse A complains of feeling cold since Muse B is hogging the covers, so Muse B takes Muse A’s hand and slips it between their legs

 

* * *

 

Asra cracked open an eye, glaring at Julian as he fidgeted and fussed beside him, too-long limbs swiftly becoming entangled in the bedsheets. He tried to ignore him, tried to go back to sleep, and yet Julian seemed intent on not letting that happen. 

He huffed dramatically, sitting upright and blindly reaching out in the darkness. “Asra, where’s that pink blanket? You know, the one with the… tassel things?”

Asra didn’t move an inch, wondering that if he stayed still, Julian would just… stop. Or maybe that invisibility spell…

“Asra?” Julian whispered, tugging gently at his arm. “Are you awake?”

“ _Ilya,_  just… come here,” he groaned, shuffling over to make room, lifting the sheets and inviting him to snuggle up. 

Julian eyed him wearily, pondering the gesture for a moment before he gave in, curling up against Asra’s side. He was  _freezing_ , as always, but the cool press of skin was strangely welcome, invigorating. 

He always smelled so wonderful, a heady mixture of fresh air and leather, his messy hair soft upon Asra’s shoulder where he nuzzled into the crook of his neck. “Better?” Asra questioned, trying not to let the seductive little satisfied groan that fell from Julian’s lips distract him. 

Julian nodded. “Mmmhmm, wonderful,” he purred, pressing a frozen hand to Asra’s stomach, causing him to yelp from the shock of it. 

Asra growled, grabbing Julian’s wrist and shoving his hand firmly between his thighs, squeezing them shut. He smirked as Julian shamelessly twitched his fingers, brushing along Asra’s traitorous erection. 

Asra swallowed back a whimper as Julian’s touch pandered, curiously stroking him through the thin fabrics of his trousers. “Ilya…” Asra warned, trying, and failing to sound firm. 

All hope of getting a good nights sleep was utterly lost as Julian pressed his lips to the hollow of Asra’s throat, running his tongue over the quicksilver thrum of his pulse. He couldn’t help but to thrust up against that firm palm, to let Julian distract him, let him pull him apart. 

Julian hummed against his skin, clearly appreciating his newfound warmth as deft fingers slowly unmade Asra, wide silver eyes watching him intently, lips parted in wonder. “Oh, Asra… so  _perfect_.”

Asra tensed, feeling that warmth burrowing into the base of his spine, blooming and spreading outward as he came, stars flickering behind his eyelids. He was suddenly sticky, thoroughly uncomfortable, and definitely not getting any sleep.

As his breathing returned to normal, he looked down to see Julian gazing up at him fondly, that ridiculous grin plastered on his face.


	176. Julian x m!Apprentice 88.

J) Muse A and Muse B playfully wrestle as a means to solve a silly argument, until Muse A pins Muse B into submission and they both suddenly forget what the argument was about 

 

* * *

“It’s pronounced  _‘ak-oh-thar’_  Julian, you’re butchering it,” Finn grumbled, contemplating why he was even letting Julian argue with him about the pronunciation of a spell in foreign tongue just because he ‘heard it in a bar once’. 

Julian slammed his hand down on the mattress in protest, his cheeks flaring red with frustration. “There’s no reasoning with you!” He dramatically threw is book the to floor, crossing his arms over his chest.

Finn wanted to be angry at him for being so stubborn over something so meaningless, but he actually found it annoyingly endearing. He placed the piece of parchment he’d been scribbling on aside, moving to crawl over Julian, grabbing his arms in an attempt to tug them apart. 

Julian frowned, turning his head so he didn’t meet Finn’s gaze, his arms locked tight as Finn failed to pry them from his chest. 

Finn was strong,  _much_  stronger than Julian, and if he really wanted to, he could have him begging for mercy in the blink of an eye. “Julian, don’t make me do it…” 

Julian persisted, continuing to evade his attempts at eye-contact. 

 _Right._  

Finn grabbed his legs, yanking him down the bed, a startled yelp escaping his throat. Finn proceeded to pin him to the mattress, his hands gathered in one hand above his head, bracketing his hips with strong thighs. Julian poorly attempted to stifle a laugh, his nose crinkling from the effort. “Get  _off_ me you cretin!”  

Julian twisted again, trying to free himself from Finn’s grip, but Finn knows how to fight dirty, knows how to stop the slippery man from escaping his strong grasp.

“Tell me I’m right,” Finn grinned, using his free hand to prod at his ribs, delighting in the way Julian wriggled beneath him in protest. They squirmed against one another, breathless from laughing, that was until Finn ground his hips down against Julian’s in the middle of their struggle, feeling a certain something hard against his hip. 

They both stopped in their tracks, Julian gazing up at him, eye wide. “Uhm…” 

Finn saw an opportunity and ran with it, pushing his hand below the waistband of Julian’s briefs. “So…” he grinned, fingers curling tightly around his erection. “ _Now_ are you going to admit I’m right?”

Julian bit his lip, shaking his head, his eye more black than silver now. He whimpered as Finn stroked him once, a drawn-out glide before he circled his thumb around the tip, spreading the wetness that was forming there. 

Finn could see Julian’s fingers digging into his palms, making little crescent-moon shaped indents in his skin. He leaned in, running his nose along that sharp jaw, up to the point just below his earlobe. “ _Spoilsport_.” 

Finn quickly removed himself from Julian’s lap, taking his hand with him and settling back beneath the sheets on his own side of the bed. Julian lay there in disbelief, still painfully hard and aching and _panting._

Julian huffed loudly, turning onto his front with a dramatic thud as he buried his face in the pillow. Finn watched the not-so-subtle grind of his hips as he adjusted against the mattress, laughing as Julian mumbled a muffled, “I’m still right.” 


	177. Asra x f!Apprentice 8.

Aurora smirked as Asra tightened the silk scarves around her wrists, tugging against the restraints just to check if they’d hold up. 

He got up and walked around the bed, appraising her where she lay supplicant and spread out for him. His beauty was otherworldly, all lean lines of muscle under perfect golden skin as he stalked his prey, those vivid violet eyes burning into her, making her shudder in anticipation. 

He dropped to his knees at her feet, soft but firm hands sliding up along her bare thighs, blunt nails lightly scraping at her skin. Aurora shuddered, her hips hitching, her whole body feeling raw, like an exposed, frayed nerve. She  _ached_  for him. 

Asra crawled over her, his back arched in a sinuous bow, so unconsciously sexual that it made her whimper, a million thoughts of what he would do to her darting around in her head. She wanted to whisper his name,  _beg_ him to show her mercy quickly, but she knew better. 

He pressed his lips to her stomach, trailing kisses down over the sharp wings of her hipbones, his thumbs digging _hard_ , gripping her waist with intent to bruise. “I’m going to pry you open,” he purred, breath hot upon her skin, “and I’m going to fuck you until you can’t see straight.” 

She whimpered, watching a crooked grin cross his lips, her skin  _burning._ She’d never been an obedient girl, always defying orders, breaking the rules, but from the second she met Asra she’d bared her throat, let him claim her. 

The dull throb between her legs was becoming hard to ignore as he toyed with her, running his nose along the inside of her thigh, greedily breathing in her scent. He reached down and took himself in his hand, groaning loudly as he stroked down once, twice, his eyes blown-black as his gaze locked with hers. 

She was  _jealous_ , wanting to be the one who touched him, who brought him that pleasure. That was the power he had over her, the overwhelming, all-consuming urge to please and be pleased. He stopped touching himself, moving to press his hands either side of her head, caging her in. 

He leaned in  _close_ , his voice low in her ear. “I want to make you scream. Would you scream for me?” 

She nodded, biting her lip hard enough to draw blood, trying to cling to the final thread of her sanity as those talented hands finally,  _finally_ reached down to part her trembling thighs, Asra running a single digit along that slick, _aching_  heat. He greedily licked into her mouth, humming his appreciation as the copper-tang of her blood hit his tongue. 

Asra wasted no time readying her, she was always ready, always  _his_. He placed himself at her entrance and surged forward, driving her down against the mattress with a vicious rut as he sheathed himself to the hilt. Aurora screamed, the pleasure so intense, _too_  intense, her legs winding around his waist, heels digging into the small of his back as she rode out the relentless buck of his hips.

Aurora eagerly sought out his lips, craning her neck to slant their mouths together in a messy kiss, yelping at the sting as Asra’s teeth closed over her bottom lip, tugging then releasing it with a snarl. “You’re  _so_  good,” he moaned, curling his fingers around her throat. 

Asra squeezed once, smiling as her eyes rolled back in her skull, Aurora sucking in an unsteady breath, the solid weight of his hand feeling like a promise, a  _brand_. He squeezed again before loosening his grip, his thumb lightly resting upon the quicksilver flutter of her pulse. 

Aurora arched up against him, Asra trailing his lips down over the curve of her throat before he laved his tongue over the tight peak of her breast, kneading the supple flesh with a big hand. She cried out, liquid fire flowing through her veins as he tugged at her nipple with his teeth, her hips bucking to meet his still-punishing thrusts. 

Asra sat back, offering her a low, rumbling laugh. “God, look at you,” he whispered, hands roaming over her ribs, down, down the curve of her waist to the flare of her hips. “ You’re ready to come, aren’t you?”

She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from screaming, nodding desperately, feeling the relentless pooling of heat low in her gut, between her legs.  _God_ , she wished her hands were free, wished she could push her fingers into that mess of perfect white hair, let the soft strands snarl about her fingers as she tugged him close. 

Aurora felt gutted, like he was splitting her open and pulling her back together all at once, all hope lost as he pressed down to sink his teeth into her throat, sucking a bruise upon her skin. Her head slammed back against the pillow as her orgasm washed over her. Asra growled as she violently clenched around him, coming with a final, stuttering thrust, his eyes closed tight as he pressed close,  _closer_  than she thought was possible, buried so deep he felt like a part of her. 

Asra slumped forward, his hands hitting the mattress,  _trembling_ as sweat dripped down his brow.Aurora felt dazed, sated and  _wrecked_ and made new. 

He reached up to untie her hands, pulling them up to his mouth to press a kiss to each of her wrists, his fingers soothing away the sting from the ties. He reluctantly removed himself from between her thighs. “Mmm… that was beautiful,” he murmured, gathering her up in his arms. 

In that moment, there was nothing. Nothing but  _Asra_.


	178. Finn x Alkar x Julian 4.

As Finn stepped inside the shop, glass crunched beneath his feet. He stilled immediately, frozen to the spot as he took in the strange sight before him. “Julian?” He called out, hearing nothing in response. He was supposed to be here, they’d made plans, and Julian never let him down… 

Panic began to bubble as he stepped over the shards of green glass that littered the floor, reaching out to run his finger through the liquid that had been spilled over the countertop. Wine, red wine. He relaxed instantly, rolling his eyes as he registered what had likely transpired. 

 _Alkar._  

He turned on his heel to exit the shop and start the hunt for his probably stolen boyfriend, noticing a piece of parchment stuck to the door with a familiar looking red-handled dagger.Subtle. 

_Bring me ~~a gift~~  yourself and you can have your doctor back. Maybe. Unless I just decide to kill him. WHICH I MIGHT!_

_Go to the fountain in the town square for your next clue. ~~\- A~~_

“Bloody hell, he even  _signed_  it,” Finn groaned, finding it hard to be annoyed at the terrible would-be kidnapper. He’d grown fond of Alkar, and he was certain he wouldn’t hurt Julian, mainly because the man had obviously become infatuated with both of them after their drunken ‘sleepover’, no matter how much he liked to deny it. 

~  ~  ~

After an (illegal) swim in the fountain, nearly getting arrested (twice), getting chased by a goose and nearly getting seven of his ten his fingers chopped off by a salty seadog, Finn finally had Alkar’s final clue. 

He was now definitely feeling less amused, and much, _much_  more annoyed. He sighed, unfolding the final piece of parchment. 

_Congratulations! ~~You’ve~~  … I’m bored now. We’re in your room at the palace. Bring wine? xoxo_

“Fuck!” Finn yelled, balling up the parchment and lobbing it into the reservoir, his blood pressure rapidly rising. 

He wiped the sweat from his brow as he barged past the guards with purpose. Portia dutifully scurried out of his way when she saw him coming, knowing better than to speak to him when his eyes glowed like they were right now, magic rolling off him in messy waves as he tried to reel-in his spiraling rage.

He couldn’t quite believe that Alkar would actually bring Julian here, basically wiggling him right underneath Nadia’s nose. 

He clenched and unclenched his fist as he finally reached his room, the door buckling and splintering as it crashed against the wall.

Alkar was hunched over a tied-up Julian, their mouths locked in a desperate kiss. He quickly spun to face Finn, wide-eyed, disheveled and as annoyingly bloody  _attractive_ as ever.

Julian sunk back against the chair, his thighs shamelessly spread where Alkar had been situated between them. He winked at Finn, a wolfish grin crossing his lips. 

 _Ass._   

“What the fuck, Alkar!” 

“Did you bring wine?”

“NO!” 


	179. Asra x f!Apprentice 9.

Asra could feel her before he could see her, a mess of confusion and fear and pain rolling over him as he drew nearer. It was _suffocating_ , the visceral way that she projected her feelings through her magic terrified him, and he didn’t even know if she was aware that she was doing it. 

She controlled him like the moon would the tide, reeling him in, calling out to him, and he could only obey. 

“Aurora?” 

A small, broken sound came from the bathroom, and Asra carefully stepped inside. She was curled in on herself in the bathtub, clothed in black lace that clung to every curve as if it had been painted onto pale skin. 

She’d always favored white before, would never have been caught dead looking like she was dressed for a funeral.  

He shook away memories of their past and rushed to her, climbing into the empty tub to wrap her up without a thought. Her hands were in her hair, tugging at the tangled white-blond strands at the root. “I… I can’t. I  _can’t_ find him,” she sobbed, finally meeting his gaze with those sky-blue eyes, shining bright with unshed tears. 

 _Him_. The demon.

Asra gently tugged her hands from her hair, holding them in his own. “Just breathe. It’s going to be okay,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “He’ll be back, he always comes back.” 

The demon did always return, never realizing how much pain it caused her when he left, half of her quite literally ripped away in his absence. 

Asra could feel her every emotion without the demon here to steady her, all the regret and pain and loss and hope and  _love_ overwhelming himas she reached to snake shaking arms around his neck, seaming their bodies together, sinking gratefully into his warmth. 

Aurora pressed her face to his neck, a low whimper falling from her lips as she placed a kiss upon his skin, followed by another, then another. She tilted her head, searching his face for something,  _anything_ , needing him like parched earth needed rain. 

“Take anything you need,” he nodded, opening up for her without question, giving her everything, all of him,  _always_. 

Asra swallowed her broken sob of relief as their lips met, feeding her his power in a circuited flow, feeling the shattered pieces fuse and fix together as she climbed into his lap, her legs bracketing his hips. 

The air grew lighter as she mended, her breathing steadying as they reluctantly parted. 

“Better?” 

She nodded, smiling sadly and sinking against his chest, her hands fisting his shirt. “Thank you.” 

He only wished he could tell her how much he loved her, _existed_  for her, hoping that his magic flowing through her would be enough for now. 


	180. Asra x Julian 23.

Asra was (as always) minding his own business when Julian shuffled into the room, shoulders slumped and in his usual state of perpetual tiredness.

He dramatically dropped down into the booth beside him, then pressed his forehead upon the table and released a long, drawn-out groan.

Asra could try to ignore him all he liked, but he knew it would only make his life harder in the long-run. He rolled his eyes, folding the corner of the page he was reading and setting his book down quietly. He was trapped, sandwiched between the wall and Julian’s unmoving form, the only escape route being under the table. He wasn’t  _that_  desperate. Or, was he…

Before he came to a conclusion on that, Julian sat up, slumping down in the chair, his head lulling to the side and those pretty silver eyes locking with Asra’s. “Hello.”

Asra quirked his brow. “Spit it out. Something is clearly bothering you, I don’t have time for your coy dramatics.”

Julian frowned, looking thoroughly offended. “I… everything’s fine,” he mumbled, definitely lying as he defiantly folded his arms across his chest.

”Okay, good. Can I…” Asra gestured for Julian to move and let him out, and Julian reluctantly obliged, making a show of dragging himself to stand.

Asra quickly slid out, attempting to make haste and get the  _hell_  away before… shit.

Julian’s long fingers curled around his wrist, a strong arm reeling him in for a crushing hug. Asra stood still, Julian’s arms wrapped around him, his face pressed against that bare, broad chest. “Uh… Ilya?”

Julian nuzzled his face into Asra’s fluffy hair and sighed, ruffling his curls. “Mmmhmm?”

He wasn’t going to give it up so easily, notorious for dragging out the tiniest thing for as long as possible to maximise the attention he received, and Asra was wise to his little game. “Ilya, I really do have t—“

Julian grabbed him by the shoulders and stepped away, holding him at arms length. “It’s, well… it’s my  _birthday_! And… and no one seems to have remembered despite my subtle hints the last week…”

Asra smirked. “Subtle?”

”Yes,  _subtle_ , and it just hurts my feelings, okay? My feelings are hurt.” He released Asra, tucking his hands into his pockets.

Asra paused for a moment, before turning and walking into the kitchenette. He fumbled around in one of the drawers and pulled out a neatly wrapped box. He returned to the brooding man and handed it to him with a sly smile.

Julian’s eyes grew wide and shiny, and Asra had a horrible realisation that he was probably going to cry. With that in mind, he quickly turned and left Julian standing in the middle of the room, dumbfounded and staring down at the still unopened box.

”You did remember,” he breathed.

Asra paused in the doorway. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Birthdays are stupid.”


	181. Julian Week 2018 - Day 1

 

**plague / pleɪg**

_(n) a contagious bacterial disease characterized by fever and delirium_

* * *

It’s cold. Cold and damp and silent.

He tries to sleep, tries to ignore the incessant  _drip, drip, drip_  of water on the stone floor, but sleep never comes.

He drags himself to the small desk they’d allowed him, barely able to stand, every step a struggle until he sits in the old wooden chair.

He  _aches_ , his body failing him, once so strong, strong enough to fight off pirates and mercenaries with ease. His mind had been even stronger, the notoriously quick-witted and sharp-tongued Doctor Devorak, but even that was failing him now.

As he stares at the pages he feels numb, the words seeming blurred, foreign. He runs his hand over his temple, moving to rub his eye ( _that_ eye), down his face, fingers shaking.

He’d always had such steady hands, hands that  _healed_.

He scoffs, the sound echoing off the walls, a thin stripe of moonlight shining through the bars and hitting his face as he turns to seek out something other than darkness.

His chest rattles, his lungs protesting every single breath. When he coughs his palm is speckled red, the bitter copper tang of blood hot on his tongue.

For the first time he realises that he’s scared,  _terrified_. He doesn’t want to die, but, more than anything, he doesn’t want  _them_  to die.

All those people. His people.

People who embraced him, welcomed him with open arms, called him when their children got sick, brought him apples from the market, bought him drinks at The Raven, trusted him with their lives.

And they were all going to die because of his failures. Because he couldn’t bloody  _think_.

 _No_ , he thinks, maybe even says it aloud as he stumbles backs towards the desk, grabbing his quill and dipping it into black ink. He pauses, the tip hovering over blank parchment, then, he writes.

_You will not take them._


	182. Julian Week 2018 - Day 2

**Endearment / ɪnˈdɪəm(ə)nt,ɛnˈdɪəm(ə)nt/**

_(n) a word or phrase expressing love or affection._

* * *

I wish I could tell you how I treasure the nights where you stay up to keep me company, when I’m too racked with guilt and pain to even  _think_ about closing my eyes, too scared to see what this broken mind will show me in the form of nightmares.

I love when we talk through the night, right through until morning, the sun setting and rising around us. Nothing else matters in those moments, not when golden eyes meet grey.

I never knew this feeling could exist before you tumbled your way into my world. I’d never allowed myself to feel anything other than excluded, never thought myself worthy.

It was the best moment of my life when I finally realised I deserved it.

All of it.

Every brush of our fingers, every embrace, every stolen glance, every whisper of affection, every kiss that feels like the first time,  _every_ time.

The way you look at me, tell me that the freckles that litter my shoulders remind you of constellations, that the bump in the ridge of my nose is beautiful, the way your fingers move in a comforting rhythm over my skin, making me believe every word without hesitation.

You shoulder every burden for me without question, still standing strong and tall and perfect under the heavy weight of my woes, no matter how insignificant they may seem.

You can tug me from the darkest depths with a smile, and not just for me, but you lift the melancholy of anyone you meet.

I’m not like that, I don’t think. I can’t quite master it, too wrapped up in my own world to know how to fight for someone. I’d love for you to show me one day, show me how to be the man you believe me to be.

Without me saying a word, you know how to calm me, how to pull me from whatever awful mood has taken hold.

I love you,  _god_ , I love you so much. I love everything about you to the point where it’s painful. I love you.  _I love you._

I may not be able to wrap my head around the fact that you’re mine, but I’ve  _always_ been yours.


	183. Julian Week 2018 - Day 3

**pain / peɪn/ (n)**

_1\. highly ~~un~~ pleasant physical sensation caused by illness or injury._

_2\. mental suffering or distress._

* * *

Julian had felt pain, every incarnation of it.

The pain a lover could inflict upon him had always been his favourite. The way it caused him to shudder, leaving him gasping, begging for more, more,  _more_.

He was unashamed of this desire, the urge to be marked, claimed, more powerful than any.

He craved it,  _lived_  for it.

Then, there was the pain that came with loss, with guilt, with failure.

He suffered that pain in a different way, he earned it and welcomed its sting as he stared out at the blackened ocean, the jagged outline of the forgotten island illuminated by pale moonlight.

This pain was unforgiving and constant, a physical  _ache_  embedded deep within his chest.

He was positive that if you were to cut him open, you would see it winding its way around his arteries, flowing through his veins, a physical manifestation of all his mistakes that only the most skilled of hands could pry away.

The curse afforded him relief from pain he craved. You could stab him, beat him, burn him, and he’d stay standing, smiling and solid, the glowing mark upon his throat chasing away the only pain that would make him feel alive.

But, the curse couldn’t patch his broken mind, and that was the wound he needed it to heal the most, the wound that would really kill him if he let it.

It wasn’t until  _they_  came into his life that Julian thought it might be possible to live without that pain.

They were his bright light in the darkness, a hand breaking the surface of the ocean that drowned him, pulling him up for air. The one that could crack him open and pull that awful darkness out of his chest, that could make him whole.

On days when he would bury himself beneath mussed sheets, day when he would refuse to face it, any of it, they would coax him out with gentle fingers brushing away the tangles in his hair, smoothing the furrow in his brow.

_You can do this._

He loved them, and he let them heal him with whispered words and kisses that burned like fire. They made him believe he could survive this, survive  _anything_. If they were by his side, together they could rule the world.

They say that love and pain go hand-in-hand, and Julian couldn’t help but agree.


	184. Julian Week 2018 - Day 4

**blossom / ˈblɒs(ə)m/**

_(n) 1. a flower or a mass of flowers_

_2\. the state or period of flowering_

_3_.  _mature or develop in a promising or healthy way_

* * *

It started with a flower.

A deadly thing, bright and just as beautiful as he was as he tucked it behind Finn’s ear.

Finn was rarely speechless, but as Julian stood before him, bathed in the otherworldly sapphire glow of the canopy of blooms that surrounded them, there  _were_  no words.

Instead, he reached out and cupped a palm to Julian’s cheek, his thumb stroking soft skin.

Julian looked confused by this foreign affection, stunned for a moment before a smile twitched at his lips.

He hoped Julian could feel the warmth of his touch, feel the heavy meaning he tried to convey through the tentative brush of his fingers.

The way Julian’s silver eye sparkled, and the way a delightful blush bloomed across his cheeks told Finn it may have just done the trick.

~ * ~ * ~

Winter came and killed all of the flowers, the garden desolate, void of life and blanketed in white.

Julian watched as Finn reached up to tug at a crooked, naked branch, a flurry of snow falling when it snapped free of his grip.

It was the first time they’d returned since that night, both of them strangers to the people they’d been back then, no matter how little time had passed.

Julian’s long coat dragged in the snow as he wrapped his arms around Finn’s waist, reeling him in.

There were no guards to run from tonight, and, though the threat still loomed, they felt safe here, their little secret.

Julian leaned in, brushing his frozen nose along Finn’s cheek, both of them laughing before Julian swallowed the sound with a kiss.

When they parted, all was silent, just left was the sound of their breathing, of their hearts beating in sync.

“I love you.”

The flowers may be dead, but something still blossomed, a warmth, spreading and  _squeezing_  deep within Julian’s chest when he gazed down into golden eyes.

“As I love you.”

~ * ~ * ~

By the time summer came, there was relief,  _freedom_.

Julian tugged off his gloves, throwing them to the ground without a care, glancing down to see them settle amongst the too-long grass, everything so much brighter with two eyes.

Finn offered him a crooked grin, still just as handsome as the day they met, still sending him reeling,  _dizzy_.

Julian tore his eyes away from him, reaching up to pluck the deadly starstrand from its vine. He twirled it in his fingers, feeling Finn’s presence at his side.

“So…”

Finn huffed a laugh. “So…?”

Julian’s heart beat double-time in his chest as it tried to escape the cage of his ribs. So silly to be nervous after everything they’d been through together.

They were safe, finally free, and all he needed now was to be  _whole,_ and Julian knew just the thing to do the trick.

He tucked the luminous bloom behind Finn’s ear, just as tender as the first time, his touch drifting, lingering upon his cheek.

“Will you be mine… forever?”

It was hard to miss the hitch in Finn’s breath, the way his bright eyes widened. He grabbed Julian’s hand and laced their fingers together and said the most beautiful word Julian had ever heard…

“ _Yes_.”

It started with a flower.


	185. Julian Week 2018 - Day 5

**salt / sɔːlt,sɒlt/**

_(n) modern-day slang for bitterness_

* * *

Julian scoffed loudly, rolling his eyes as he threw aside the notes he was reading, notes that  _he_  had written in a storm of desperation the previous night.

Asra raised his gaze from his book to glare at Julian, setting it aside. “Are you incapable of reading quietly, of doing  _anything_  quietly?”

Julian didn’t acknowledge him, pushing away from his desk to pace, hands running through messy hair as he racked his brain. “I just… _how_  am I not getting anywhere with this? It’s been months, Asra, and I’m no closer, not even a bloody inch.”

Asra cursed under his breath, but loud enough for Julian to hear. “Ilya, I hate to break it to you, but you’re too wrapped up in yourself. You need to relax, take a step back.”

Julian stammered, falling over his words. “Ha! You…  _you_  are telling me this? The one who consistently toys with me and distracts me. Not that I mind the methods of distraction you offer, but  _still!_ “

Asra returned his attention to his book as he attempted to block out the incessant  _clomp_  of Julian’s heavy footsteps as he circled the library.

He relented for a while, but decided he could bite his tongue no longer. He stood, squaring up to the (much) taller man and stopping him in his tracks. Julian immediately turned pink, his cheeks flushed under Asra’s intense scrutiny.

Asra poked a finger to his chest, Julian stepping back until he hit the bookshelves with a thud. “You are a  _bitter_ , impatient man. Do not blame me, nor your infatuation with me, for your shortcomings.”

Julian swallowed loudly, reaching up to curl his fingers around Asra’s wrist, his brow furrowed. “S-shortcomings?”

Asra smirked, edging closer, tugging himself free of Julian’s grip, immediately and infuriatingly missing the cool feel of his skin upon his own. “ _Yes_ , Ilya.”

Julian narrowed his eyes at him, his lips curling into a snarl. He fisted Asra’s shirt, practically lifting him off the floor as he reeled him in, their chests seamed tight, lips brushing together. “I’m giving everything to save people, to save  _you_ , you ungrateful little wretch.”

Asra groaned, appreciating this rare boldness as Julian closed the barely-there gap between them, Asra’s hands pushing up into auburn curls and tugging as thier lips met in a desperate, hot hot  _hot_  kiss.

Julian left him panting, wanting more as he returned to his desk, smiling to himself as he picked up his quill and wrote something decent for the first time in what felt like forever.


	186. Julian Week 2018 - Day 6

**healing / ˈhiːlɪŋ /**

_(n) the process of making or becoming sound or healthy again._

* * *

Julian saved lives.

He saved them, but he had no interest in saving his own.

It had been easier to be alone after everything that happened, to contain his pain, control expectations. After all, if he was by himself, how could he disappoint anyone?

Julian had always loved company before, had never been interested in being a lone wolf, had craved touch, conversation,  _thrived_  off the presence of others. Be it pirates, mercenaries, or witches, he didn’t care.

He was a desolate creature now, a movement in the shadows, a  _thing_  people would whisper about, a rumour, a monster. He found solace in his loneliness, and that felt like a triumph amongst all of his failures.

Pasha, Asra, and so many others had been cursed by him, all victims of his obsession with being miserable.

Asra had once looked at him with tears in his pretty eyes, frustrated and  _angry_ , but most of all just… sad, disappointed. “I’ve never met someone so dedicated to their own unhappiness as you, Ilya.”

It stung, but he was right.

When he woke up shackled, branded, all he could think was,  _I deserve this_.

When he meets Finn, he falters. He feels something in his chest, deep and blooming warm in his gut that he hadn’t anticipated, something that he thought laid dormant, gathering dust.

He’d felt it a few times before, but it never rooted itself this deep, winding and  _squeezing_ , suffocating. He couldn’t ignore it, didn’t want to.

So, when Finn opens his arms, Julian falls into them foolishly, closes his eyes and lets himself  _feel_  for the first time in a long time.

The constant fear keeps him awake at night, laying beside that warm body, fingers laced together, Finn loving him in even his sleep, the fear that he could hurt this beautiful thing, damage this person who didn’t deserve anything but love, happiness.

He cuts it off, leaves a gaping hole in both of their chests. Selfish (again), a coward (again).

So, when Finn appears before him, beautiful and angry and  _determined_ , the most stubborn creature he’d ever encountered. He grabs his shirt and pulls him close, tells him he’s worthy, that he’s not giving up on him, that can do this.

For some reason, Julian believes him.

“Kiss me,” he whispers, and the warm press of their mouths contains a miracle.

There’s a hand in his hair, another around his waist, and they move together, as one.

Julian was a healer, but it was Finn who finally healed him.


	187. Julian Week 2018 - Day 7

**evanescent / ɛvəˈnɛs(ə)nt,iːvəˈnɛs(ə)nt/**

_(a) soon passing out of sight, memory, or existence; quickly fading or disappearing_

* * *

One weekend, a whole three days of Julian wondering when it would end, when it would snap back to how it had always been. He wondered what had changed as he lay across from Asra, warmth blooming in his chest, and with it the desire to reach out, to touch.

He wanted to carefully brush away the lock of hair that had fallen to cover his eyes, to trace those perfect lips with his fingertips, to kiss him until he couldn’t see straight. He hesitated, fingers twitching as he reached out, afraid that it was all a mirage, that it would flutter and float away.

This Asra, the Asra that slept peacefully next to him, the one who let him into his bed with a smile,  _this_  was the Asra he’d fallen in love with, the kind of love you can’t seem to escape.

They were so beautiful when together like this, and that was what made it so difficult for Julian to remember that he had to keep his distance, that it would just… fall away.

Julian knew that having a taste of what they would be like,  _could_  be like, made it harder. The simple intimacy Asra had afforded him overruled the fleeting, wild nights of passion, so full of fire and lust and emotions so strong Julian could foresee it ruining them both, or at least definitely him.

Arguments in the library that turned into heated glances, those then escalating into frenzied kisses, then so,  _so_  much more.

But now, waking up to Asra beside him, getting to see him with mussed hair, getting to watch him stretch and yawn, so painfully beautiful that Julian often couldn’t quite believe he was real.

The conversation had been easy, they had laughed until their sides hurt, and Asra had teased him relentlessly as he always did, but that had ended with sincere, violet eyes and a whispered, “Ilya, you’re so beautiful when you smile. I wish you would do it more often.”

It was simple, perfect,  _easy_. It was exactly what Julian wanted; a light amongst all the darkness that surrounded them both. Even though he knew Asra could never be his, not completely, he couldn’t bring himself to regret it, any of it.

Julian finally allowed himself to be lulled quietly to sleep, completely unaware of Asra’s eyes opening, focusing upon the auburn-haired man before him, his mind swimming with such similar thoughts.

One weekend.

One weekend was all it took.


	188. Finn x Omen 3.

“ _Ahchu_!”

Omen cracked an eye open, glaring at a sniffling Finn. “I told you to wear a coat.” 

Finn grumbled, turning onto his back and waving his hand dismissively as he gazed up at the ceiling, his nose twitching. “And  _I_ told  _you_ that I’m fine.” 

He attempted to swat Omen away as he reached to place the back of his hand upon Finn’s clammy forehead, tutting his disapproval at the feel of too-hot skin. “Stubborn  _ass_ ,” he huffed. “It’s that ridiculous shirt that you wear, you may as well wear nothing!” 

Finn snapped his head to the side, meeting Omen’s disapproving gaze. A smirk twitched at the corners of his lips, Omen registering that mischief was afoot, squealing in protest as Finn rolled on top of him, pinning him with his big body. 

“I’ll show you  _stubborn_ ,” he grinned, smothering his face with sloppy kisses, Omen squirming beneath him in protest, gasping for breath through his laughter. 

Finn pulled away, letting him breathe for a moment, admiring the light flush that had painted his pale cheeks. He bit his lip, greedily taking in Omen’s disheveled form, those rich, golden brown eyes gazing up at him. “Hmmm…” Finn hummed, grinding his hips experimentally, Omen responding by arching up against him, his eyelashes fluttering. 

“What are you up to?” Omen mumbled, his voice breaking.

“Oh, nothing,” Finn smirked, grabbing Omen’s wrists and pinning them above his head, leaning in to suck a trail of bruises along his bare shoulder, Omen’s breath hitching, his hips stuttering beneath him, seeking friction. 

“ _Finnegan_ …” Omen groaned, half in warning, half appreciation. His fingers twitched impatiently, Finn loosening his grip on his wrists so that Omen could run a hand down his spine, resting his palm at the small of Finn’s back and tugging him closer. He tilted his head, baring his throat with a grin.

Finn growled, low and rumbling in his chest as he accepted Omen’s invitation, running his tongue up and along the column of his throat, his jaw, then catching his lips in a languid kiss. He trailed his fingers down Omen’s side, over his ribs,  _lower_  over the arching wings of his hipbones, thrilled with the way the other man trembled under his touch as he ran his finger along the loose waistband of his briefs. 

Finn pulled away reluctantly, an incessant tickle bugging him, his nose twitching. “Uh oh.” 

Omen’s eyes flew open, his brow furrowed. “Excuse me, you can’t just do…  _that_ and stop!” He whined, gesturing at Finn’s hand. 

Then, Finn sneezed, collapsing against Omen’s chest with a thud. Omen sighed, the moment lost as he pat him on the back, Finn muffling a groan against his shoulder. “I’ll wear a coat next time.” 


	189. Finn x Alkar 5.

G) Muse A determines to prove that they can make Muse B come without penetration

* * *

 

Another empty bottle rolled over the tiles, their fourth, if Finn remembered correctly, his brain fuzzy from too much cheap red wine. He much preferred whiskey, but Alkar had gone to so much trouble to steal the bottles from the market, so he could hardly complain.

“It’s just not possible. I’m telling you because I’m fond of you and I don’t want you to embarrass yourself,” Alkar sighed, mindlessly rolling a gold coin over his knuckles.

Finn was sure he was just saying it to push his buttons, daring him. He drew his gaze from the stars, shifting up onto his elbows to leer over Alkar. “Well, maybe you should ask Julian.”

Alkar bristled at his words, snapping his head to the side to meet his stubborn golden gaze. “Julian’s easy, all you have to do is  _look_  at the man and he crumbles.”

A wicked grin crossed Finn’s lips as he reached out to run a finger up along the centre of Alkar’s chest, coming to a stop at his throat before gripping his chin. He leaned in close, lips but a breath away. “And you wouldn’t crumble? Care to make a bet on that?”

Finn watched the bob of his throat as he swallowed thickly, satisfied with the deep flush that was blooming upon dark cheeks. He roughly released his hold on him, laying back down, waiting.

The brief silence was broken by Alkar’s low, frustrated growl. “Fine!” He began, reaching for Finn’s wrist and tugging, reeling him closer. “Try me.”

“You’ll regret this, because I’m going to win,” Finn sighed, pressing close, their bodies seamed together as they lay side-by-side. Alkar shrugged, trying to maintain a facade of cool, but Finn could sense his anticipation bubbling beneath the surface, his excitement.

He leaned over him, hands pressed either side of his head as he surged forward to catch his lips in a messy kiss, a prelude, the taste of wine sweet on the tip of his tongue. He gently tugged Alkar’s bottom lip between his teeth, quickly kissing away the sting.

Alkar was already putty in his hands, unfairly long, dark eyelashes fluttering closed to kiss the tips of his flushed cheeks. Finn brushed his unruly hair back from his eyes, making sure he’d have a good view when he inevitably fell apart.

Alkar snarled, teeth bared. “So cocky. Get on with it will yo- _ohhhh_!”

Finn raised his hand, magic glowing in his palm. “I told you I didn’t need to touch you,” he smirked. He closed his fist, the pale white light dancing about his fingers as he toyed with Alkar, watching his expression shift, his eyes rolling back in his head, jaw clenched  _tight_ as Finn’s invisible fist curled around him, stroking, coaxing.

Alkar whimpered, a helpless, broken noise that sent shivers rolling down Finn’s spine. It was a strain to keep this particular spell going when he was this inebriated, but Alkar’s reaction was worth the looming exhaustion.

The light grew brighter, stronger with each writhe of Alkar’s hips, his chest heaving as he gasped for breath, the most delicious noises falling from parted lips. He reached out and grabbed a fistful of Finn’s shirt, yanking him close, the tips of their noses brushing. “I  _hate_ you,” he moaned, the helpless hitch of his hips, coupled with how utterly  _wrecked_ his voice was betraying his scathing words.

Finn shook his head, smiling, satisfied. “No you don’t. Now, are you going to admit that I’m right?” He wiggled his fingers, tightening that invisible grip, Alkar reacting in kind with a choked-off cry. He exhaled sharply, fingers practically tearing through Finn’s shirt.

Finn knew he was close, teetering on the edge, but he wasn’t willing to (literally) get him off so easily, not until he said it. “Alkar… I can keep this up for hours.”

“No!” Alkar yelped, sweat beading upon his brow. “Finn, I…  _fuck_! You’re right, okay? Now,  _please_ …”

“Good boy,” Finn purred, and with a click of his fingers, the white light flared, the magic simmering, dissipating.

Alkar cried out, his back arching off the ground in a perfect bow, the final stutter of his hips signalling his finish. He groaned, dazedly blinking as he came back down to earth. “Holy…  _shit_.”

Finn huffed a laugh, taking in his sinfully disheveled form as he lay sated beneath the stars. “Told yo—“

Alkar swallowed his words with a kiss, flinging himself at Finn, both of them crashing to the ground in a mess of tangled limbs, one of the empty bottles rolling off the roof and landing in the street with a loud  _smash._


	190. Julian x m!Apprentice 89.

Portia has told him it would be ‘funny’ if he pretended he didn’t know, if he just went about the day as he would any other, Asra enthusiastically agreeing with her.

So, as Julian walked into the shop that evening, Finn greeted him with a smile, barely looking up from the book he was reading. It was hard to miss the way Julian’s shoulders slumped, his eye sad, brow furrowed as he lazily removed his coat.

He dragged himself to the table, dropping into the chair opposite Finn with a loud sigh. “So… how was your day, my love?”

Finn shrugged, nonchalant. “Fine. Just like any other day, nothing special.”

He felt bad,  _terrible_ , in fact. Though, it would all be worth it when Julian saw what he’d really been up to today.

“Ah, yes. Lovely,” Julian grumbled, a sad silver eye following Finn as he headed upstairs.

Finn closed the bedroom door behind him, igniting the candles that covered the room with a quick spell. He stepped back, studying his work and quickly began to unbutton his shirt.

“Julian! Can you come here?”

He grinned, listening to the  _thud, thud, thud_ of Julian’s heavy footsteps travelling up the stairs. He opened the door, not quite knowing where to look.

Finn lay on the bed, a red rose clutched between his teeth, bare-chested and bathed in candlelight like one of the heroes from those ridiculous romance novels Julian (not so) secretly read.

“Happy birthday.”

Julian cleared his throat, his voice coming out broken anyway. “Ohoh… um.  _Wow_. Okay, so… so you did remember.”

Finn laughed, pulling the rose from between his teeth and walking over to the dumbstruck doctor. He broke the head off the stem and pushed the flower behind Julian’s ear, admiring the way it looked amongst auburn curls.

“Of course I did. It’s only the most important day of the year.”

Then, Finn kissed him, winding his arms around his neck, pressing close, taking his bottom lip between his teeth and tugging, appreciating the guttural groan that rumbled deep in Julian’s chest.

Julian swayed against him, chasing another kiss as they parted. “You… you terrible man.”

Finn nodded as he started to unbutton Julian’s shirt, pushing it off his shoulders to get to all that perfect, pale skin. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to the centre of his chest, his hands roaming greedily down his sides, feeling him shudder beneath his fingertips.

He dropped to his knees, dragging his palms down Julian’s tensed abdomen, over his thighs, relishing in the breathless gasp that fell from his lips as he tugged at the waistband of his trousers. “Now, time for your first gift…”

“F- _first_?”

Finn nodded, smirking up at him. “I’ve got quite the night planned, you know.”

Julian opened his mouth the speak, the words swiftly snatched from the tip of his tongue, his head slamming back against the door as he gratefully received present number one…


	191. Asra x Julian 24.

Asra was painfully aware when Julian was having a bad day. Something about it softened him, filed away that hard edge.

He walked over to where Julian was slumped upon his desk, his head resting on folded arms, looking utterly defeated.

Asra ran gentle fingers through the mess of auburn curls that snarled about his face, pushing them away from sad silver eyes.

He paused, noticing an angry red welt upon Julian’s forehead, the skin around it already bruising, yellowing. “Again?”

Julian looked up at him, his gaze quickly dropping, ashamed. “Yes.”

Asra felt a pang of rage in his gut, imagining how satisfying it would be to give the Count a taste of his own medicine, how beautiful the sound of a glass bottle breaking against  _his_  skull would be.

Julian must have registered his anger, reaching up to curl long fingers around his wrist, his thumb drawing soothing circles over his racing pulse. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m fine,” he smiled, sitting up, reeling Asra in until he was standing between his legs. “I’m big enough and stupid enough to take it. I’ve dealt with worse patients than our beloved Count.”

Asra let himself be tugged close, Julian wrapping his arms around his waist, resting his head against Asra’s stomach. “I don’t believe that for a second.”

Julian laughed, leaning gratefully into Asra’s touch as he trailed his fingertips from Julian’s hair, down to his cheek, tracing a line of freckles. “I… I’d rather he take it out on me than you.”

Asra sighed. He was right, Lucio seemed to have a desire to hurt Asra in as many ways as he possibly could, it was like a game to him.

Julian often took the fall for him, and he had to remind himself of that in moments like this, moments where this kind of naked affection was well-deserved.

”Thank you, Ilya,” he whispered, cupping the sharp angle of his jaw, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to waiting lips.


	192. Julian x m!Apprentice 90.

Finn had found himself with Julian in his lap, long legs bracketing his hips, pressing him back against the headboard with a needy kiss. Not a terrible predicament to be in, to say the least.

Finn could never help but to greedily explore every tempting dip and curve of Julian’s bared body, fingers tracing the knobs of his spine, down to cup the perfect curve of his ass.

The way he bucks against him as Finn spread him open is maddening, Finn pressing a finger inside, then another, and another. Julian’s head falls to his shoulder for a moment, his back arching beautifully as he moves against him, shamelessly fucking himself on deliciously curled digits.

Finn smiles against his skin, his face pressed against Julian’s throat, arms winding around his waist as he moves to push him down against the mattress.

“Wait!” Julian mumbles, hands gripping at the headboard, keeping him right where he was, where he wanted to be. Finn obeys, relaxing his grip. Julian looks down at him and reaches up to trace Finn’s lips with the pad of his thumb. “I… let’s stay like this.”

“Oh?”

Julian smiles. “My turn to do the work. How about it?” He laughs as Finn nods profusely, more than happy to let Julian take the lead for a change, the mere thought of it making him harder, if such a thing were possible.

Julian presses their foreheads together, his eye fluttering closed as Finn holds his cock steady, letting Julian slowly lower himself down, taking him all in until he’s fully seated, filled to the brim.

Finn exhales, a shuddering breath as Julian rocks in his lap, the maddening grind of his hips making him see stars.

Julian winds his arms around Finn’s neck, moaning loudly as he ran a hand through Finn’s raven hair, tugging gently, scratching blunt nails over his scalp.

It was more sensual, more intimate than the heated lovemaking that usually occurred between them, Julian so tender when he took control, such a rare and  _beautiful_  thing.

Some things always stay the same, like Finn leaving his mark upon pale skin, teeth claiming him in a silent chorus of mine, mine,  _mine_.

Finn pushes his hands into Julian’s hair, carefully reeling him in, their mouths meeting in a languid kiss, all tongue and teeth, ruining him piece by piece, taking him apart.

Finn grips Julian’s hips tightly, hard enough to bruise as he watches with naked wonder, Julian moving above him, around him. Julian’s cock is thick and perfect, bouncing between them as Finn takes it in his hand, keeping his eyes on him as he begins to stroke, to try and return the slick,  _tight_ pleasure Julian was affording him.

The sound of skin against skin, their laboured breaths, every tiny groan, whimper, all enough to expertly unmake him. Julian leans forward again, his breath hot in Finn’s ear. “Oh  _god_.”

Finn smiles as Julian shudders, coming messily over his fist thanks to the expert twist of Finn’s wrist. He clenches around Finn, legs tightening he his final stuttered thrusts coax Finn to join him, to spill inside him as his name falls from his lips like a prayer.

They stay joined like that for as long as they can, Finn whispering against his skin, telling him how beautiful he is.

Julian smiles, teasing Finn with a sly roll of his hips, laughing as the hissed protest that Finn chokes out.

It’s as easy as breathing with them, whether they’re laughing, crying, fucking, it’s all the same. It’s all love. Unconditional and raw and  _real._

As they finally pull themselves apart and sink into rumpled bedsheets, they lace their fingers together upon the pillow between them, Julian watching Finn’s eyelashes flutter closed as he loses the fight against the sleep that pulls at him.


	193. Finn x Alkar x Julian 5.

“So,  _this_  is where you drown your sorrows?” Alkar scoffed, scrunching his nose as he took in his surroundings.

The Raven was full to the brim, bustling with salty seadogs and rickety old crones. Finn chuckled at Alkar’s disgusted expression. “I think you fit in quite nicely, Alkar.”

Julian returned with their drinks, a shit-eating grin on his face as he placed the tankards upon the table. “Three Salty Bitters! Cheers.”

Alkar groaned as he lifted the drink to his nose, taking a deep breath and knocking it back in one go, wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve. “ _Fuck_ , that’s disgusting. I’ll have another.”

Julian slid into the booth beside Finn, gazing at their new friend curiously. “Hmm,” he began. “I quite like him.”

_~ Five drinks in ~_

Alkar crawled under the table, suddenly deciding he needed to be closer, squeezing between them. He slung an arm around each of their shoulders, leaning in to whisper, albeit  _loudly_ , in Julian’s ear. “I’ve fantasised about you, you know, Doctor.”

Julian shifted in his seat, that familiar telltale blush blooming upon his cheeks. “You… you have?”

Alkar bit his lip, edging ever closer, so close his lips were merely a breath away. “Yeah, about  _killing_ you!”

Finn almost choked on his drink.

_~ Ten drinks in ~_

Finn had somehow made the executive decision to gather his two inebriated companions, trying his hardest to herd them through the winding alleyways and back to the safety of the shop.

He watched them wander off ahead of him, Alkar hanging off Julian, smiling from ear-to-ear and cackling like a fool as he successfully made Julian blush for the hundredth time that night.

He turned to seek out Finn, waving obnoxiously as he approached. “I totally get it now. I just…  _get_  it,” he nodded, pouting at Julian. He then curled his finger seductively, beckoning Finn to come closer, unfairly long,  _dark_  eyelashes fluttering. “He’s quite lovely, isn’t he? Can… can we…” He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, bursting into a fit of giggles at Finn’s incredulous expression.

Finn couldn’t stop the smile that twitched at his lips from spreading as he pushed open the door, ushering them inside, his heart racing.

Alkar kicked his boots off, stumbling into Julian’s waiting arms. Julian glanced over at Finn, seemingly seeking permission, and swiftly being granted it as Finn crowded them, carefully pushing them both back against the closed door with a firm palm splayed upon each of their chests.

They both stared at him, naked wonder shining in glassy eyes as he offered them a crooked grin. “Well, don’t you two get along beautifully?”

Alkar swallowed loudly, he and Julian looking wrecked, desperate, Julian’s cheeks a deep shade of red, the colour spilling down across the top of his bared chest.

They were both dishevelled, chests heaving under his heavy golden gaze. “What  _am_  I going to do with you both?”

Julian sank back against the door, practically melting. He reached out, hooking his finger into the waistband of Finn’s trousers, reeling him in. “Finnegan…”

Alkar interrupted, bold in his drunken state, pushing away from the wall and heading for the stairs, only turning when he reached the first step. “Are we doing this, or not?”

Finn had often considered himself a lucky man, but he’d never felt _quite_  as lucky as he did right now, limbs tangled beneath warm, rumpled sheets, two pairs of greedy hands mapping his skin, eager lips pressed either side of his throat.

”So, Alkar,” he mumbled, turning to catch his lips in a brief kiss, “is it safe to say you’re over the idea of murdering my boyfriend?”

Alkar hummed, reaching over to push his fingers through messy auburn curls, tugging Julian closer. “Hmmm, I haven’t decided yet.”

Julian whimpered, letting them both press him down against the mattress as they crawled over him. “Oh god…”


	194. Asra x Julian 25.

H) Muse A challenges Muse B to stay quiet so that their relatives/friends sleeping in the next room won’t hear them fucking.

* * *

 

Julian lands against the door with a thud, Asra’s lips eager, hot like a brand upon his throat, trailing messy kisses down over his collar bone, his chest. His hands are warm and soft against Julian’s cool skin as they push up his shirt, deft fingers prying open the final few fastened buttons.   
  
Julian claws at the ornate paneling for leverage, unable to stop the helpless writhe of his hips as Asra makes quick work of unbuttoning his trousers. “Oh  _god_. Its been agony, watching you, waiting,” Julian tells him. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, about  _this_. Are you… are you sure we should be in here?”  
  
Asra raises his violet gaze, offering Julian a lazy, wolfish grin that sends a shiver rolling down his spine. “Ilya, do you ever shut up? Of course we shouldn’t be in here, now…  _hush_.”  
  
Julian gasps, a ragged, broken thing as Asra falls to his knees, delicate fingers curling around his length, his tongue laving around the tip, tracing the curve of his crown, humming as he finally tastes him. His eyes are on Julian again, the vivid colour of them barely visible around deliciously blown-black pupils.

Julian still can’t quite believe that he does that to Asra, that he makes him  _want_  him, causes that reaction. He’s beautiful and dangerous and…  _his_ , at least for a little while. He takes what he can get, what he’s given, all the while giving himself completely, irrevocably.  

He makes sure Julian’s watching him as he swallows him whole, fingers still curled,  _squeezing_  around the base, knowing all the right ways to unmake him, to make him beg. Julian dares to reach down, to push a hand into cloud-white curls, so soft as they snarl about long fingers.

He can’t help the groan that spills from his lips, it’s loud, echoing off the marble that surrounds them. Asra pulls away with a slick  _‘pop’_ , standing slowly, pressing him hard against the door. “I told you to be quiet, Ilya.” He rises onto his tiptoes, running his nose up along the column of his throat, lingering at his ear. “Don’t make me punish you.”

Julian closes his eyes  _tight_ , biting back a whimper as Asra turns him, his face pressed against the door as Asra spreads him open, shushing him, pressing a slick digit inside, then another, and another.

Julian’s panting, driven bloody  _mad_  with want when Asra finally places the tip of his cock at his entrance, slowly pushing inside, inch by perfect inch until his hips are flush with Julian’s backside, fingers digging hard enough to bruise as he grips his hips for leverage.

Asra’s head falls forward, resting upon the spot between Julian’s shoulder-blades as he gathers himself. Julian smiles, that surge of satisfaction washing over him, the thought that Asra was just as wrecked by Julian as he was by him thrilling him.

“Please, please,  _please_ ,” Julian begs, moving his hips back, coaxing him to move, to do  _anything_  lest he burst.

Asra growls, low and rumbling in his chest as he finds his rhythm, a delicious push and pull as he buries himself inside, filling him to the brim. His hand is tugging at the soft hairs at the nape of Julian’s neck, fingers trailing down over the perfect curve of his spine as Julian shamelessly fucks himself back on Asra’s cock.

Asra had told him to be quiet, there’s guards and nobility roaming the halls, even while the countess is away, but even Asra can’t contain himself now, not as he pushes both of them closer to the edge, whispering filthy things in Julian’s ear, filthy enough to make even  _Asra_  blush. But he doesn’t care, nothing matters now, not when they’re together like this.

Julian can feel the telltale tingle low in his abdomen, his toes curling in his boots, fingers scratching at the door. Asra’s thrusts stutter, settling into an unsteady rhythm as he too starts to seek his finish.

Asra groans in his ear, his tongue flicking out to taste sweat-slick skin, teeth nipping, tugging before greedily kissing away the sting. “Touch yourself,” he commands, voice a broken, raspy thing.

Julian happily obliges, grateful for the instruction as he curls his hand around his aching cock. He’s a whimpering mess when he comes, just a few pathetic pumps is all it takes until he’s spilling over his fingers, hips erratic as Asra’s hands find his hips again, holding him tightly as he surges forward, stilling his thrusts as he comes with a choked-off cry.

When Julian finds his breath, he opens his mouth to say something smart, something to break the intimacy, to make him feel less like breaking, falling to his knees and pledging his life to him, but not before Asra spins him and steals the words with a frantic kiss, so blindingly  _hot_  that Julian forgets himself, forgets  _everything_  until all that’s left is the feel, the touch, the taste of  _Asra._


	195. Julian x m!Apprentice 91.

G) Muse A determines to prove that they can make Muse B come without penetration.

* * *

 

Julian looks up at him through long lashes, his chin resting upon Finn’s unfairly toned abdomen. He’s blushing as usual, but the colour blooms darker, kissing the tips of his ears as it spreads out from freckled cheeks. “I don’t believe you, magic can do no such thing.”

Finn huffed a laugh, pushing a hand into unruly auburn curls, knowing full well that Julian was toying with him, pushing his buttons until he relented and gave him exactly what he desired. “You know,” he begins, “if you’re curious, all you have to do is ask.”

Julian closes his eye  _tight_ , pressing his hips down against the mattress as he contemplates it. He hates magic,  _loathes_ the stuff, but Finn had made him less weary of it, and if he was saying he could do what he claimed, Julian was sure he’d be rather fond of it afterwards. He was half-hard just from the thought of it, his traitor body responding to Finn with little effort, all he had to do was  _look_ at the man and he was weak. 

He rolls to lay at Finn’s side, the sheets pooling around his bare waist, tented to display his obvious arousal. “Very well, have your way with me,  _witch_.” 

Finn chuckles, rolling his eyes playfully as he crawls over Julian, surging forward to nip at his jaw. “Mmmm I plan to. Now, you can’t freak out on me, promise?”

Julian grips his waist, holding him in place, taking the sight of him,  _beautiful_ above him in, saving it for a rainy day. He nods, still sceptical, and definitely a little nervous, but willing all the same. 

Finn begins with a crooked grin, pressing a trail of kisses from Julian’s clavicle, over his chest, ribs, stomach, hips. Julian was starting to realise Finn’s little promise wouldn’t be so difficult, already thinking how he could come from just the feel of those lips upon his skin.

All rational thought flies out of the window as magic sparks to life in Finn’s splayed palm, fingers lightly twitching as a glistening light surrounds them, moving in time with him, thrumming and  _beautiful_. Finn quirks his eyebrow, smiling as Julian nods enthusiastically. 

He feels warmth, deep and blooming in the pit of his stomach, flaring out and around to his spine, his nerves shot, tingling. He fists the bedsheets, tangling his fingers in the soft linens, trying to anchor himself before he floats away. The sensation is otherworldly, unlike anything he’s experienced before, his heart beating double-time in his chest. 

The light in Finn’s palm dances, glowing in the dimly-lit room as Julian writhes upon the mattress, too lost in the feeling to even think about being embarrassed by how he looks, hips stuttering up off the bed, seeking friction against the soft sheets. “Oh god, please. I… I can’t.” 

Finn leans closer, brushing his lips over Julian’s; a prelude to a kiss. “You look so perfect like this. Mine, you’re  _mine_ , at my mercy,” he purrs, the words sending a full-body shudder rolling over Julian, Finn riding the steady buck of his hips where he pins him. “Are you ready?”

Julian whimpers, a pathetic, needy sound as Finn sets him free with a flick of his wrist, watching intently as Julian comes undone, spilling out onto his stomach. He’s dizzy, utterly  _wrecked_ as he manages to steady his breathing. “Oh… uhhh, okay.”

Finn hums, satisfied with his quick work as he presses his thumb to Julian’s lips, golden eyes burning with hunger, taking the sight of him in. “So, magic?”

Julian licks his dry lips, clearing his throat loudly. “ _Magic_.”


	196. Finn x Alkar x Julian 6.

“You know,” Finn began, tightening the rope that fixed Alkar’s hands behind his back, “you’d make the worlds  _shittest_ assassin.” 

Alkar rolled his eyes, pathetically struggling against his restraints, swaying in the rickety wooden chair. “I was just dropping by to say hello, nothing sinister.” 

Julian sat on the end of the bed studying Alkar’s expensive looking dagger. “He literally fell through the window and yelled,  _“I’m going to kill you, Devorak,”_  then threw this at me.” He handed the dagger to Finn. “Shall we show him? It seems unfair to keep letting him get all worked up about murdering me.” 

Finn sighed, sitting on the mattress beside Julian and taking his hand, studying the murderers brand, black and jagged and permanent upon pale skin. “I suppose.” He met Alkar’s narrowed, amber gaze. “Don’t freak out, okay?” 

Alkar shifted in his seat, seemingly trying to edge closer, his curiosity piqued as Finn curled his fingers around the ornate handle of his dagger. He crawled behind Julian, wrapping an arm around his waist and pressing his lips to his throat, smiling against his skin. 

Suddenly, in one, swift movement, Finn sank the dagger into Julian’s side, just below his ribcage. Julian yelped, arching his back into a sinous bow, pressing himself back against Finn’s chest. Finn helped him through it, holding him close as he quickly removed the blade, fingers bloodied where they covered the wound. He whispered soothing words in Julian’s ear as his breathing began to steady, his body trembling helplessly from the shock, or maybe from something else entirely. 

“What the fucking  _fuck?!_ ” Alkar sputtered, jaw clenched, eyes comically wide as he took in what he’d just witnessed, completely baffled, Julian already back to his normal healthy, definitely  _not_  dead, self, the only sign of any injury being the blooming blood stain upon his shirt. 

Julian bit his lip  _hard_ , hard enough to draw blood, still riding out the blinding sensation, pain taking a backseat to pleasure. 

Finn grabbed a handful of auburn curls and tugged, baring Julian’s throat to a still-perplexed Alkar, pointing to the brightly glowing rune that shimmered upon pale skin. “He can’t die, Alkar. Try as you might, it’s just not possible. He’s cursed.” 

Alkar blinked a few times, long, dark lashes fluttering in disbelief. “You… he… you  _what?_ ” His lips curled into a snarl, cheeks flushed with frustration. “This is bullshit, utter  _bullshit!_ Why does he look happy that you just bloody shanked him?!”

Finn threw the dagger aside with a crooked grin, moving to let a still blissed-out Julian fall back against the mattress as he wandered over to Alkar, cupping his jaw and leaning in  _close_. “When will you give up? Just admit that you’ve grown fond of us, and just… _stay_.” 

Alkar swallowed loudly, his gaze firmly fixed on Finn’s lips, breath quickening. Finn pressed their foreheads together, his touch lingering upon Alkar’s cheek, idly stroking soft, russet skin. 

A broken whimper swiftly tugged them out of their little moment, Finn turning his attentions back to an increasingly desperate Julian. He threw Alkar a sly glance over his shoulder as he returned to the Doctor, kneeling between his shamelessly spread legs, running big hands up along his thighs. “Excuse me, I just have to take care of this,” he smirked. 

Alkar cursed loudly as he watched Finn slowly unbutton Julian’s trousers with deft fingers, beginning to think that maybe,  _just_  maybe, he would stay after all. 


	197. Asra x f!Apprentice 10.

Aurora lays on the bed, lounging in the midday sunshine that streams through the curtains as she reads. Asra is beside her, but she can feel him getting restless, fidgety. She grins, folding the corner of the page and placing the book on the nightstand. “Asra, do you want to go out?”

He cocks his head at her, and as her eyes meet his, she can tell what he’s thinking, what he  _wants_.

He wordlessly shifts to settle between her thighs, her breath hitching as he places warm hands upon her bent knees, pushing them down her thighs, his touch setting her alight.

He presses his lips to the soft skin of her inner thigh, hands continuing their ascent up her body, pushing up the fabric of her skirt until it settles around her waist. Her head falls back against the pillow, her fingers tangling among soft, white curls as he dips in, his nose brushing over her tensed stomach, moving agonisingly slowly as he teases her, building her up ready to break her down.

She drapes her legs over his shoulders, caging him in with a grin. He groans, licking his lips at the sight of her as she adjusts her hips in a not-so-subtle attempt at hurrying him up. “Asra…” she warns, unable to stop herself smiling as he laughs lightly. He’s toying with her, and she’s weak for it.

He finally,  _finally_  runs his tongue over that sensitive,  _aching_  bundle of nerves, her back arching off the mattress as if he’d electrified her, her free hand fisting the sheets desperately, the other tugging at his hair, scratching his scalp.

He stills his actions, blown-black eyes raising to savour the sight of her falling apart. She whimpers, a plea for him to continue, and he dutifully concedes. Her heels dig into his back, urging him closer as he laves his tongue over her entrance, lapping up that sweet,  _sweet_ wetness.

The pressure is gentle but maddening, every dip and trace of his tongue driving her to madness, splitting her open with expert precision. She gasps as his hands slide beneath her, gripping the soft curve of her ass and tugging her closer with a rumbling growl, a growl that rocks her straight to her core, makes her tremble.

He’s lost now, fingers gripping her tightly as she rolls her hips, shamelessly fucking his mouth. He slips a finger inside her, curling it, beckoning. She sighs his name, watches lean muscle shift beneath delicious tawny skin as he moves, his finger pumping inside her twisting until he finds that spot that finally unmakes her.

Both of her hands are in his hair now. “Fuck, fuck,  _fuck_.” She’s lost, grinding against his tongue as he rides out the crest of her orgasm.

He pulls away, and the sight of him is sinful,  _devastating_ , his lips glistening, parted on a breath. He smirks, crawling over her, his cock straining against his trousers. “Why would I want to go out when there’s so many things we can do here?”


	198. Asra x Julian 26.

"Can I request post-reconciliation asrian fluff/smut with asra bottoming?"

 

 

* * *

Asra wakes to warm lips upon his back, his breath hitching as long fingers grip his waist. He smiles, pressing back against the comforting,  _hard_  lines of Julian. ” _Mmm_ morning.”

Julian reaches around and flattens his palm upon Asra’s abdomen, fingers twitching impatiently. He doesn’t speak, simply kisses, nips, sucks. It’s different and new and… he suddenly has Asra feeling  _very_ awake. 

“ _Ilya_ ,” Asra murmurs, the way Julian touches him snatching the breath from his lungs.  He turns to face him, and the look in Julian’s eyes is desperate, hungry, causing heat to pool between his thighs, and he’s achingly hard from just the eye contact alone. “What’s gotten in to you?” 

Julian merely whimpers, tugging him closer, as close as is physically possible, hands continuing to roam every inch of Asra’s tawny flesh. He’s practically panting with want, cheeks flushed and eyes hooded. 

Asra knows that look, but it has a different edge to it here, something primal. He lets Julian devour him, his kisses hot like a brand upon his jaw, then his throat. It’s refreshing,  _invigorating_ being touched like this by him. 

Julian stills, pulling back to stare at him, his eyes clearer than ever. Asra studies him for a moment, tries to figure out what he’s looking for as he brushes the tips of their noses together. “Tell me what you need.” 

Julian swallows loudly. “I… I need. I  _need_ to be inside you.” The words come out fast, assured, and they render Asra speechless. 

They’ve only just found each other again, having gone three painful years without the comfort of one another. Asra promised him he’d never deny him anything again, never deny  _himself_ anything _._  He reaches up and brushes auburn curls away from Julian’s eyes, his fingertips lingering upon his cheek, stroking down to tug at kiss-swollen lips. “Anything.  _Anything_.” 

Julian groans, loud and rumbling in his chest as he turns Asra, tugging him back against his chest once more, his erection solid against the curve of Asra’s ass. He presses his lips to Asra’s ear, his breath warm, sweet. “I had a dream about this, just now. I can’t…” he exhales sharply. “I  _must_ have you.” 

Asra nods, eyes closed, losing himself in Julian’s touch as he spreads him open, pressing a single, slick digit inside. He gasps at the intrusion, unfamiliar yet entirely welcome as Julian curls his finger, beckoning and  _perfect_  inside him. 

Julian seeks out his lips, and Asra arches against him as he turns his head, initiating a deep,  _delicious_  kiss. Julian swallows his gasp as he presses a second, then a third digit inside, not faltering for even a second. Asra breaks away, his head falling forward, chin on his chest as he chokes out a broken, “ _More_.”

Asra bites his bottom lip as Julian’s hand finds his cock, those elegant fingers curling around the base, stroking him as he places himself at his entrance. There’s a foreign, strangled noise that escapes his throat as Julian slowly buries himself inside. He allows Asra, and himself, time to adjust to the new sensation, both of them trembling, clawing at one another for leverage. 

Nothing should feel this good,  _nothing._  

As he begins to move, Asra tilts his head back, coming to rest upon a broad shoulder, feeling the perfect flex of muscle, sinew under skin pressed against his back. Julian is never more beautiful than in these moments, the furrow of his brow, the way the flush upon his cheeks highlights the trail of freckles that flow over his nose like constellations. He’s devastating, and he’s looking at Asra in the same way, like this is it, this is his  _everything_ , his freedom. 

“ _Asra_ ,” he whispers, voice a delicious, broken thing, a hint of desperation wobbling at it’s edges. He’s seeking guidance, doesn’t quite know how to handle these sensations, the tight, hot feel of Asra around him,  _everywhere._

Asra reaches back, presses a hand over the perfect curve of his ass and  _squeezes_ , urging him on, his pace quickening as he does so, and Asra meets him halfway, shamelessly grinding back on his cock until they’re both seeing stars. Julian strokes him still, the twin sensations fighting to unmake him, utterly overwhelmed as Julian begins to whisper in his ear, murmured promises and declarations of love, of devotion. 

“I… I can’t, I  _cannot_ hold it…” 

Asra groans, shaking his head. “Then don’t. Please, come for me, Ilya.  _Please_ …”

Julian growls in frustration, his hand moving in a perfect,  _slick_  glide, causing Asra to come with a choked-off cry. Julian’s thrusts falter as he shudders against him, spilling himself inside, his head falling to rest between Asra’s sweat-slick shoulder blades as he fights for a steady breath. 

Asra is dazed, blissed-out and beautifully sated. He  _aches_ , but in the most wonderful way as Julian unsheathes himself, and Asra needs to see him, turning in his arms to grab his face, their foreheads pressed tight together.

“Ilya.  _My_  Ilya. You should have dreams like this more often.” 

Julian smirks, still panting as he smooths back the hair that sticks to Asra’s forehead. He pulls him as close as he can, and slides an arm underneath him, wrapping him up, not an inch left between them. “Well, that was… different.” 

Asra chuckles lightly, Julian quickly leaning in to kiss his dimples before they disappear, running his nose along his jaw before he seams their mouths together in a kiss. 

Asra tries to remember what life was like before, then what it was like in between, then and now. He decides that everything is brighter with Julian around, and that no matter how, or why, or when, he is his. 

Wholly, irrevocably  _his_. 


	199. Finn x Alkar x Omen 1.

“Right, two sprigs of… Alkar,  _two_ , not five!”

Alkar quickly snatched the unneeded sprigs of dittany from the pot, burning his fingers in the process. They landed on the floor with a  _splat_. “Oh, oops.”

Finn groaned, throwing him a glare before returning to the poorly scribbled instructions he’d managed to obtain from a questionsble witch at the red market. The pot simmered thanks to the addition of the final ingredient, tendrils of shimmering vapour rising and swirling into nothing, signalling it’s completion.

Finn clicked his tongue, studying the unpleasant looking concoction. “Hmm. Now, how are we going to get him to drink  _that?”_

Alkar crinkled his nose in disgust, making an undignified gagging noise that made Finn laugh. “Well, he’s fed us worse looking slop. Can we just… get him drunk and slip it in his drink?”

“Alcohol isn’t the answer to everything, love. Let’s just tell him it’s soup. He can’t exactly question it, it does look quite similar to one of the many horrendous things he’s made.”

That night, they both sat opposite Omen at the kitchen table, trying (and failing) to act as casually as possible as Omen raised the spoon to his lips. Alkar rose from his seat, and Finn had to tug him back down by his shirt, placing an arm around his waist when Omen quirked his eyebrow in question.

“Just can’t keep my hands off him,” Finn said, coaxing a yelp out of Alkar as he pinched him,  _hard_.

Omen shrugged, and finally took a sip of the potion. They both held their breath, waiting for his reaction, fully expecting it to be spat out all over the table. Instead, he hummed his appreciation, eyes wide as he nodded and went in for another mouthful. “S’good!”

Now, they waited.

~ ~ ~

Omen eyed them suspiciously as they helped him clean the dishes, both of them definitely  _not_  discreet as they observed his every step, every twitch. “Is everything okay? You two are being weird,” he paused, his lips twitching into a smile. “Well _, weirder_  than usual.”

They looked at one another, then back at him, shrugging nonchalantly.

Later, once they had all settled down for the night, Omen tucked safely between them in the too-small bed, Finn threw Alkar a disappointed look. It can’t have worked. They failed,  _again_.

“No toads,” Alkar grumbled.

Omen spun his head to look at Alkar. “Toads?”

Finn groaned, covering his face with his hands as he sunk below the sheets. “Alkar,  _why_.”

“Wait! Did you experiment on me again?!”

Alkar grimaced, fluttering his eyelashes and offering a weak, “Sorry? We ju—”

Finn quickly intercepted, knowing whatever was about to come out of Alkar’s mouth would surely make matters worse.  _Much_  worse. He grabbed Omen’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “We just know how hard you’ve tried to find a cure, we just wanted to help.”

Omen smiled softly, the angry flush fading from his cheeks. He squeezed Finn’s hand tightly. “Fine, but… no more toads.”

“Let’s just not speak of the toad thing, alright?”

Finn pressed a kiss into his hair, Alkar doing the same, all of them falling into a heaped, messy embrace.

Omen quickly sat up, pushing them both away, his eyes wide and breathing heavy. He grabbed Alkar’s shirt, tugging him close. “Oh  _god_ …”

“Finn…” Alkar hissed, seeking assistance as an ethereal glow cast itself around Omen, a curtain of light washing over him, falling away like silk as it revealed Omen in his true form.

A choked-off whimper escaped Alkar’s lips as he took in the sight before him.

Omen opened his eyes, lifting his hand in front of his face, studying the simple, but noticeable changes in his body. His shirt strained and stretched around his now-muscled torso, his hair a little longer, stubble littering his newly sharpened jaw. Don’t forget taller,  _much_ taller.

“Well, shit. You only went and bloody did it.”

“You said he was different, but…  _fuck,”_ Alkar groaned, a shit-eating grin crossing his face.

“My sentiments exactly,” Finn smirked, cupping his hand to Omen’s cheek. “How’re you feeling?”

Omen frowned, seemingly trying to decide. “I feel… good?  _Great_. None of that pesky existential dread I’ve gotten so used to, so maybe that means it’s permanent?”

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves,” Finn sighed, trying to make sure he didn’t get his hopes up too much.

Alkar cleared his throat,  _very_  subtley (not at all) trying to get their attention. “So… what now?”

Finn snorted, knowing  _exactly_  what Alkar had in mind. It was written all over his face, the light flush, the hooded eyes, the way he was staring at Omen like he’d just seen the tastiest meal of his life.

Omen smirked, both of them practically melting as he did so. “Well, it would be rude not to.”


	200. Asra x Julian 27.

"It's too late." 

* * *

 

 

Julian always knew there was something,  _something_  holding Asra back, something that made him hesitate. 

“I can’t give you want you want, Ilya.” He’d said. A hundred times, a thousand. 

Now they were sat in the shop, in the bedroom where they’d fought and kissed and made love countless times, and Asra was crying. 

The sight was disarming. He never cried, always so strong and stoic,  _intimidating_  with his lack of emotions. 

His head is in his hands, his shoulders shaking, and Julian reaches out, placing a tentative arm around him, holding him close, no questions, just comfort. 

Eventually Asra’s hands fall into his lap, his tears are dried up and he raises his gaze, his eyes lighter, more beautiful than ever, and with a quiet voice his whispers, “Will you stay, please?”

Julian is still in shock, confused, but he loves him, he  _loves_  him so much so he nods and he _stays_. He holds his hand, lets him sob against his shoulder, and he lets him curl up against his side, keeps him safe, wrapped up in his arms while he sleeps.

Julian doesn’t sleep, not a wink. 

When Asra wakes, he looks dazed, distant. He sits up and rubs the sleep from his eyes, Julian’s arm still draped protectively over his waist. “Ilya…” 

Julian pulls himself up, stifling a yawn as Asra looks at him, those vivid eyes searching his face intently, fingers twitching in his lap. “Asra?” 

Before he can even think, Asra is in his lap, his legs bracketing his hips, and his mouth is on his with a kiss that crushes and steals his breath away. Julian’s hands find their way into his hair, lightly tangling among soft, white curls.

It’s so achingly familiar that it feels as easy as breathing. 

Asra removes Julian’s shirt, then his own, all that lean muscle under perfect, tawny skin on display above him. Asra smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and Julian can’t help but notice. 

As he leans back in, Julian grabs his shoulders, stopping him in his tracks. “Asra, stop. What… what _is_  this?” 

Asra falters, his fake smile fading for a second before it’s back, and he’s attempting to be more convincing this time. “Please, I need… I need to  _feel._ ” 

Julian’s weak, so  _bloody_  weak, and he might just give in, might just let him take what he needs and let Asra leave him wanting more, more,  _more_. 

Julian loosens his grip, lets Asra’s lips find his skin, pressing desperate kisses to his shoulder, his throat. Julian shudders, selfishly savoring the feeling, knowing deep in the pit of his stomach that this is the last time. 

“No, Asra.  _No_ …” His voice breaks, and he pushes him away, too rough but entirely necessary. 

Asra’s eyes grow wide, and his cheeks are streaked with tears. He’d been crying again and Julian hadn’t even noticed. 

He doesn’t ask him whats wrong, he doesn’t want to know. He’s scared that it will hurt too much, and he’s so  _selfish_  it makes him sick. 

He’s weak and jealous, and Asra is just… broken. 

Asra’s smile fades and he nods, understanding, coming to the same realization that Julian has. It’s over, this  _thing_  between them, whatever it was.

“Ilya, I swear I could have loved you if…  _if_ …” 

Julian closes his eyes, shutting out the sight of him. “Don’t, please just…  _don’t_.”

Then, Asra’s head drops to his shoulder and he shakes, crying as Julian holds him again.

For the last time. 


	201. Finn x Ezra 1.

Ezra shakes his head, tutting in disapproval as Finn swigs straight from the half-empty whiskey bottle. “It’s one in the afternoon, Finnegan!”

Finn chuckles as Ezra attempts to pry the bottle from his hands, raising it high above his head, higher than the smaller man can reach even on his tiptoes. “ _Finnegan_ , is it? Oh, you must be angry.”

Ezra sighs, defeated as he takes a step back, his hands firmly fixed upon his hips. He quirks an eyebrow, blowing his white forelock away from his eyes where it had fallen in the one-sided struggle. “Please?”

Finn can’t resist him, not when he looks like that, lips pursed in a perfect, pleading pout, those huge emerald eyes glistening with a hint of mischief, cheeks blooming red. He gives in, taking a final sip before handing it to him.

The bottle is quickly returned to its place in the pantry, Ezra cursing himself for agreeing to cook something with such a tempting ingredient. He returns to the long-forgotten pot on the stove, groaning as he stirs it, trying to scrape the burnt sauce off the bottom. “See what happens when you distract me?”

Finn spots a smirk playing at the edges of his lips, registering that he’s less annoyed than he’s trying to be. He rolls his eyes and leans down to wind his arms around Ezra’s waist, resting his chin upon his shoulder. “You think  _that_  was me distracting you?”

“Finn…” he warns, but his tone betrays him, unable to stifle the laugh that breaks free as Finn’s lips find his neck. His kisses are sloppy, and his hands are everywhere, successfully managing to find every ticklish spot on his body.

The food is forgotten yet again as Ezra twists in his arms, turning to face him in an attempt at retaliation as he reaches up to mess his perfectly coiffed raven locks. Finn crinkles his nose, golden eyes wide as he grabs Ezra’s wrist before he can do too much damage. “The  _hair_? You play dirty.”

Their laughter slowly dies, both of them left breathless as they gaze at one another. Finn loves his smile, that perfect curve of his lips forever tempting him, just begging to be kissed. He leans in, whining in protest as Ezra leans away in response.

“The food will burn,” Ezra whispers, voice pitched low as he pretends to care about the already ruined meal, but Finn notices the way his eyelashes flutter closed, the way he presses against him, almost without even realising.

“Then let it,” Finn smirks, close enough that the tips of their noses are brushing, Ezra’s breath warm upon his skin.

Their lips meet and the kiss is slow, sensual, but desperate enough for them to hold each other just that little bit tighter.

Ezra squeals, shocked as Finn dips him backwards, both of them falling into a fit of muffled giggles, mouths still seamed tight as the food burns in the background.


	202. Julian x m!Apprentice 92.

Finn’s fingertips dig into his skin, and all he wants,  _craves_  is to be claimed, bruised until everyone can see that he’s his.

He feels the familiar, warm thrum of the mark upon the sharp edge of his throat and sighs. Finn pulls back, hovering above him still, frowning, just as pissed off with the curse as he is.

Finn wants to press bruises into his flesh, wants to peel away his clothes and see the evidence, see his mark upon all that pale skin.

”Damn this curse.  _Curse_ this curse!” Julian groans, his hand splayed upon Finn’s back, feeling that familiar shift of muscle, so strong and perfect above him.

Finn presses warm lips to his chest, right above where his heart is beating double-time. “Don’t be sorry, you’re still mine,” he murmurs, words muffled as he runs his tongue along his collar bone, making him shudder, making him  _shake_. “Make no mistake.”

Julian dares to look down at him, cracks his silver eye open to stare at this man, this  _god_ , unnaturally beautiful as the moonlight beats down upon him through the crack in the curtains, casting his sharp features in almost soft, ethereal shadows.

”You’ll be the death of me,” Julian moans, meaning it as Finn’s fingers ghost over his sides, the caress so soft it’s almost painful,  _painful_  how much he can convey with the simplest of touches.

”Now, wouldn’t that be a shame?” Finn begins, pushing his hands into Julian’s hair, pushing any errant thoughts away with the rasp of blunt nails against his scalp.

Julian’s fingers twist in the soft bedsheets, his back arching up against all that heat. “Finn…”

Finn hums, satisfied with how wrecked he is, but the nights not over yet. He cups Julian’s face in his palms, golden gaze burning, hungry.

When he whispers his name, it sounds like a prayer, a benediction.

”Ilya, my beautiful Ilya.”

It’s never sounded better.


	203. Finn x Alkar x Ezra x Omen 1.

“W-what are you doing?”

Ezra and Finn stand wide-eyed in the doorway, observing what can only be described as a food-related massacre. Omen was, quite literally, covered head to toe in flour, and Alkar was on his hands and knees picking up an abundance of broken glass.

“Shit,” Alkar sighed, giving up his poor attempt at cleaning the floor. “You’re not supposed to be home yet.”

Ezra and Finn exchanged a look, Ezra placing their purchases from the market upon the countertop. “Well, without you, Alkar, we managed to have a lovely day shopping without being stopped by guards because of your sticky fingers.”

Finn decided to take charge of cleaning up Omen, who was still silent and looking thoroughly pissed off. He reached out to run his hands through his hair, a shower of white dust falling to the floor. “Oh dear. So, what happened?”

Omen pointed at Alkar. “ _He_  did. He happened.”

Alkar’s nostrils flared as he scrambled to stand, bits of glass sticking out of his hands and to his clothes. “I was just trying to help!”

Finn couldn’t help but chuckle, stepping between them. “Let’s not argue. Let’s just… tidy?”

They both continued to glare at each other, spitting out a venomous, “Fine,” in-sync.

Ezra shook his head as he gathered up the final specks of mess from the floor, starting on the countertops. “What on earth were you trying to make, anyway?”

Omen bit his lip as Finn tugged him free of his ruined shirt, wrapping his arms around his waist. A faint blush was visible beneath the thin layer of flour that dusted his cheeks, and he stepped aside to reveal what they’d concocted.

It was a giant (questionable looking) cookie with a poorly iced message that read;

_We love you!_

“Awww!” Finn leaned in to study it, attempting to discreetly sniff-out a whiff of mustard that was usually the staple ingredient in anything Omen attempted to cook.

Alkar nudged Omen out of the way, slinging his arms over Finn and Ezra’s shoulders with a smug grin. “Do you like it?”

Finn and Ezra smiled, tugging Omen in to join the embrace. “We love it, you idiots,” Finn sighed.

”Do you want to tr—“

”No!”


	204. Asra x Julian 28.

A celebration kiss / I love you

* * *

 

 

“It’s over…”

Asra smiles up at him, eyes shining with tears he didn’t even realise were falling, cheeks warm and wet. His fingers twitch at his sides as he watches the realisation settle in, Julian’s perpetual frown fading. He looks… lighter.

“It is.”

Julian shakes his head in disbelief, then, he laughs. He laughs so hard his shoulders shake, eyes crinkling at the corners. He rushes towards Asra without a second thought, wrapping his arms around his waist and lifting him, spinning him around and around until Asra finally protests playfully.

They’re both laughing now, and Julian still holds him, looks up at him and he’s so beautiful in his freedom, happier than Asra has ever seen him.

Julian carefully lets him drop to the ground, bodies still pressed close as he slides down, so close Asra can hear the loud and frantic thrum of his heart.

His lips are parted, freckled cheeks flushed, those mismatched eyes making him look otherworldly. He’s so handsome, and Asra can’t resist. He rises up onto his tiptoes and presses their lips together, and it feels like the very first time.

A new beginning, something real.

Finally free.


	205. Julian x m!Apprentice 93.

First Kiss.

 

* * *

 

He swallows thickly, throat dry with his nerves, with this foreign feeling that’s settling in the pit of his stomach.

Julian goes lax against the wall, surrendering to the warm press of his body, his hand upon his chest, his other hand tentatively reaching up, then retracting, second guessing.

They’ve known each other all of five minutes, a few days at best, and yet he’s all Finn can think about.

He has a crush on the Death Doctor. Poetic, he supposes.

He thinks how strange it is for him to be putting so much thought into something as simple as a kiss. He’s taking note of how his breath has quickened, how his cheeks are flushing, so unaware of how tempting he is without even trying.

It’s impossible not to get caught up in him, not in this kind of moonlight, the glow from the deadly starstrand that’s draped in a canopy above them making him shine. He’s ethereal, otherworldly.

_What’s different about you? What’s so special?_

Finn smiles, and he presses closer, the helpless noise that falls from Julian’s parted lips sounding a lot like a plea, an invitation. He presses a hand to the wound and Julian whines,  _whimpers_ , eye wide, saying yes, yes,  _yes_.

Finally,  _finally_  their lips meet, and Finn knows.

_Oh. Yes. Yes, I’d do anything for you._


	206. Julian x m!Apprentice 94.

Kiss in the street / life and death

* * *

 

“So, this is it.”

Julian smirks. “The end of the line.”

Finn rolls his eyes, snorting a laugh. “I love you, you ridiculous man. Now, go. I’ll see you on the other side.”

Julian sheaths his dagger, takes a deep breath and turns on his heel. Finn lets him take a step before he grabs his wrist and yanks him back  _hard_ against his chest.

His laugh is musical, refreshing, and Finn wants to hear it over and over and  _over_. “Forever, right?”

Julian grows serious for a moment, and he nods once, a glimmer of sadness in his eyes. He reaches up and traces Finn’s lips with his thumb, carefully cupping his jaw and leaning in to seam their lips together. The kiss is soft, a ‘see you later’, a prelude, not a goodbye.

“Forever. I’m not quite done with you yet, my dear.”

Finn believes him, watching as he turns and runs off into the night. He brings his fingers up to his lips, chasing the feeling. Then, he smiles, turning with fire hot in his palm, ready to face it, to end it all.

 


	207. Asra x f!Apprentice 11.

Kiss in the water

* * *

 

She glistens beneath the water, golden hair clinging to her back in waves. He maps her body with firm hands, every dangerous curve and dip and freckle committed to memory.

She glances over her shoulder, a sly smirk playing on her lips. Her hips sway, she’s luring him in, and he’s weak to it, can’t bear that he’s not touching her.

He remedies that as he he winds his arms around her, cupping her breasts, lips pressed to her shoulder, tasting her skin as the water flows between them.

He groans as she pushes back against him, her palms splayed upon the tiles before her as his hand drops, lower,  _lower_  until it’s pandering between her thighs.

She turns her head, seeking his lips, running her fingernails along his forearm, making him shudder. She whimpers as his fingers give her what she craves, the noise stolen by his kiss.

He doesn’t close his eyes, doesn’t want to. He wants to savour it, the sight of her, the touch, the taste. He reaches up, brushing strands of wet hair from her face, drinking her in, pulling her apart.


	208. Finn x Alkar 6.

Kiss in the water.

* * *

 

 

“Why did you bring me here?”

Alkar doesn’t turn to face him, stays silent at his question. Instead, he shrugs off his shirt, kicks away his trousers and steps into the water.

Finn watches in silence, forever enthralled by him, his stubborn secrecy. He wants to know him, to pick him apart and get under his skin, to find out what made him so guarded.

Alkar stands, water pooling around his bare waist, a scowl fixed on that handsome face, a mask. “Are you just going to stand there?”

He waits, watches as Finn removes his clothes and steps off the bank. The water is cold, but he doesn’t mind when Alkar takes his hand, pulls him in. Finn reaches up to push too-long hair back from Alkar’s face, smiling at the way the wet strands stick up haphazardly. He trails a finger down his cheek, traces the perfect scar that cuts through his lip.

He loves the way Alkar’s breath hitches, catching in his throat as Finn grips his waist, thumbs digging into flesh, pressing and pulling him closer. There’s a certain satisfaction in watching the flush that creeps onto his cheeks.

“This is nice,” Finn whispers, careful, not wanting to break the spell, but he needs him to know.

Alkar frowns, dropping his gaze to the water that gently laps at their skin, the tense lines of his body relaxing as Finn draws him in until there’s not an inch between them.

Before Finn can even think, Alkar’s lips are on his, strong arms around his neck as they fall beneath the water gracelessly. They don’t break apart as the lake engulfs them, nor when they surface. They seam together perfectly, hands in hair and on skin.

They’re both panting when they finally break for air, foreheads pressed together. Finn smiles, a breathy laugh falling from kiss-reddened lips as he catches his breath. “Alkar, yo—”

Alkar growls a broken, “Shut up,” before he catches Finn’s bottom lip between his teeth. He doesn’t do words, it seems, but instead he slips his tongue into his mouth, this kiss is hard,  _harder_ , a desperate thing.

Finn forgets what he was going to say.


	209. Finn x Ezra 2.

Relief

* * *

 

Finn is panicking now, longing to hear the soft rustle of leaves, the sound of footsteps. He’s late, too late for it to be okay. If anything happened to him, he’ll…

“Finn!”

He spins, sees a flash of white hair and green eyes emerging from the cover of the trees, and Ezra in his arms before he can even breathe. He squeezes him tight, just checking he’s real, that he’s here.

Ezra pulls away, smiling up at him as Finn cups his face in his hands, golden eyes frantically searching his features. “You’re okay.”

“I’m okay,” he nods, laughing, still breathless from running as Finn embraces him once again. “I was so worried. You’re never late.”

Ezra fists his shirt. “I’m sorry. I’ll explain later, but now…”

Finn has the same thought as him, leaning in to brush their noses together. He’s never felt relief like it, never been so bloody scared.

When they kiss it feels like the first time, as easy as breathing, the press of those warm lips like coming home.


	210. Finn x Alkar x Ezra x Omen 2.

Kiss under the stars.

 

* * *

 

The stars sparkle above them, four sets of eyes gazing up, searching for constellations.

They’re a mess of tangled limbs and entwined fingers, and Finn thinks to himself that they’ve never been this peaceful, this content.

It’s a whirlwind when they’re all together, exciting and invigorating, but moments like this are his favourite.

Omen points to the sky. “Look, a shooting star.”

Ezra nuzzles closer to him, pressing a kiss to his temple, then his cheek. “Beautiful.”

The two of them fall into a whispered conversation, Ezra pulling Omen close, playing with the soft fabric of his cape as they muse about the stars and space.

Alkar rolls onto his side, sighing dramatically and reaching to twirl a lock of Finn’s hair around his finger. “I’m bored.”

Finn turns his head to meet his dark gaze, offering him a crooked grin, knowing the comfortable silence wouldn’t last forever. “You’re always bored.”

Alkar shrugs and drapes an arm over Finn’s waist. “If you’d let me bring wine…”

They all groan, “No,” in unison, earning a grumbled string of curses from Alkar. He scowls, nose crinkling as he traces Finn’s lips with his fingertips; a master in distraction.

Finn quirks an eyebrow at him, waiting for his next move, whatever that may be. He hears giggling behind him, grass rustling as Omen and Ezra edge closer.

Alkar can’t stifle his smile as Finn catches his finger between his teeth, and he leans in, pressing a quick kiss to the corner of Finn’s mouth before resting his head upon his chest. Finn wraps an arm around his shoulder, keeping him close. “It’s not so terrible out here.”

They return their gaze to the stars, Finn smiling to himself, thoroughly content with the company he keeps.


	211. Finn x Alkar 7.

A bar / A bet. 

 

* * *

 

Finn holds the cards in his hand confidently, Alkar a little less so.

They’ve both had more than a few too many drinks, salty bitters, wine, whiskey. It’s a disaster waiting to happen, especially when Alkar is losing.

Julian is propped up in the corner, passed out and snoring loudly. He was done hours ago.

Finn cracks a cocky smile, setting down his winning hand. Alkar wobbles at the sight of it, throwing his cards to the floor in a strop, before he dutifully accepts his loss and downs whatever concoction the barmaid just placed in front of him.

He growls loudly as he slams the empty tankard on the table, nose crinkled in disgust. “Bleh! Now, this isn’t over, Finnegan,” he slurs, those pretty lips quirked into a snarl. “Arm wrestling. Final challenge.”

Finn does a quick shot of whiskey, relishing in the way it burns his throat, warm as it settles. “You promised me a drinking contest first.”

The small crowd that’s gathered cheers enthusiastically, and the barmaid magically appears with more drinks. Alkar regrets his promise, but he’s not one to go back on his word.

Finn begins, holding his nose as he downs drink after drink, each more disgusting than the last. Alkar matches him cup for cup, growing paler with each gulp. Finn starts to sway, that awful lightheadedness settling in, his stomach twisting.

Alkar looks like he’s about to spill the contents of his stomach over his shoes, so Finn makes the executive decision to try and end their little game. “Right, you two, home. Now.”

Alkar stands, wobbling on long legs as they both attempt to haul Julian from his seat. The man is a dead weight, head lulling from side to side.

They stumble home gracelessly, dropping Julian more than a few times. He’s tucked into an uncomfortable looking pile of mismatched cushions and blankets on the floor in the back room and swiftly forgotten.

When Finn returns to the kitchen, he finds Alkar shirtless, his elbow upon the table. He flexes far more than is necessary and winks, waves his fingers.

“Are you trying to seduce me?” Finn slurs, a smile curling at his lips.

“Only if it’s working,” Alkar mumbles, eyebrows wiggling suggestively. “Come, let’s settle this.”

Instead, Finn cups his face in his hands, covering his lips in a messy, drunken kiss. They both end up on the floor somehow, everything a blur as Finn straddled Alkar’s waist. It’s heated and clumsy as they claw at one another, Alkar pushing Finn’s shirt off his shoulders to get at all that bare skin, unsteady hands roaming greedily.

Alkar sits up, their chests seamed tight, both breathing heavy. “Bedroom?” Finn whispers.

Alkar responds by expelling the contents of his stomach on the floor.


	212. Julian x m!Apprentice 95.

In the kitchen / A fight

* * *

 

Julian holds his defensive stance, his chin raised in defiance as Finn chides him. He hates being wrong, hates it when Finn cares this much.

“You were stupid, and you bloody well know it! It’s just… just  _irresponsible_. Do you have no regard for your own safety?”

He doesn’t respond still, Finn’s stubbornness obviously having rubbed off on him, and Finn is almost proud.

Julian used to crumble in arguments, practically fall to his knees begging for forgiveness within seconds. He liked this Julian, and his traitor body was doing nothing to help him maintain his anger.

Finn opens his mouth to continue, but Julian finally interjects, the growl in his voice doing nothing to quell Finn’s growing desire. “I only care about  _your_  safety, you _mmph_  –”

Finn is weak as he swallows his words, surging forward to capture his lips in a kiss. He tugs at his bottom lip with his teeth, taking advantage of the fact that he’s caught him off-guard.

Julian’s just as weak as him, his defensive stance forgotten as he slides his hands beneath Finn’s shirt, his fingertips cool against warm skin as he maps his muscles.

Finn fists his shirt, shoving him  _hard_ against the wall. He’s desperate, curious and sick with worry, but that doesn’t stop him wanting him. That familiar dull ache settles in the pit of his stomach, and he’s hard, painfully so.

He moves eager hands to his face, fingers pushing up into messy auburn hair, bodies pressed tight as he deepens the kiss.

“You’re an idiot,” Finn groans in the short break between kisses. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.”

Julian hums his agreement, already lost, the argument long forgotten in his mind. They’re both hungry for each other, that primal need to take, to  _claim_ setting in as they curve against one another.


	213. Julian x m!Apprentice 96.

In the moonlight / Confessing feelings

* * *

 

 

Julian sits on the roof, an empty bottle by his side. There was only a drop left, a few meagre swigs, certainly not enough to warm him on this bitterly cold night. The moon hangs low in the sky, full and bright and shining, the stars twinkling gently around it.

He hears footsteps approaching, then a blanket is draped over his shoulders. Finn sits beside him, joining him beneath the soft cotton. “Sorry,” Julian whispers, guilty, knowing Finn often worries when he wakes to find his bed void of his lover.

Finn’s hand comes to rest at the back of his neck, and Julian closes his eye at the touch. “What are you thinking about tonight?”

They shift to face each other, and Julian can’t help but to reach up, to trace the curve of his cheeks, trailing his thumb down to brush over full lips. He doesn’t need to speak to show him how he feels, what he’s been thinking about.

He chases his touch with a kiss, finally finding the warmth he longed for, Finn smiling against his lips. Golden eyes meet his grey, and he wants to tell him, needs to.

Tell him that he’s so wrapped up in him he can barely breathe, that waking up beside him every night feels like a dream he never could have foreseen, that the thought of Finn wanting him terrifies him.

That he loves him.

It all gets lost, stuck on the tip of his tongue. He feels it deep inside, knows it’s true, real, but he can’t explain it. He’s a coward, a fool.

Finn brushes his fingertips over the frown that’s formed on his brow, smiling as he chases it away with his simple touch. He’s looking at Julian like he’s something incredible, something more than he’s ever felt he is. “Come back to bed,” he purrs, and the words make Julian giddy.

He nods slowly, entranced, under his thrall. Finn catches his lips in a desperate kiss, and Julian lets himself be swept away. They break apart, foreheads pressed close.

“Finn, I…”

His mouth snaps shut before the final word falls free, before he says the thing that could destroy them both.

Finn shakes his head, cupping his face in big palms. “I know. I  _know,_ Julian.”

Julian smiles, swallowing the word, keeping it safe.


	214. Julian x m!Apprentice 97.

In the water. 

* * *

 

 

The bathtub is most definitely too small for two six foot plus men, but they squeeze themselves in anyway.

Julian’s too-long legs rest uncomfortably either side of Finn’s waist, Finn shifting in an attempt to get comfortable with heels digging into his ribs. “Ouch!”’

“You insisted I join you! I’m happy to bathe in my own time.”

Finn grumbles, running his hands up Julian’s calves, his thighs. Julian shudders under his touch and Finn smiles, tilting his head. “We’ll have a bath big enough to swim in one day, like the ones at the palace.”

Julian snorts, his head lulling back to rest against the rim of the tub. “Keep dreaming, sweetheart.”

“Hey!” Finn protests, sitting up, disturbed water sloshing over the sides and onto the tile. He tugs at Julian, pulling him up until their wrapped in an awkward embrace. “We will, you know. I’ll bet my life on it.”

Julian can’t seem to stop the sly smile that crosses his lips, wet curls snarling about his cheeks. He runs his hand through Finn’s hair, slicking it back. “Don’t bet such precious things.”

Their lips meet briefly, softly. Finn hums as they part, content as he closes his eyes and thinks about what’s to come, how bright his future looks with Julian by his side. “Do you not believe me?”

Julian gestures for him to turn, and Finn obliges, leaning back against Julian’s chest, the position no more spacious, and definitely no more comfortable. Julian rests his chin on Finn’s shoulder, sighing contentedly. “I do.”


	215. Julian x m!Apprentice 98.

They’re drunk. Drunk and loud and  _happy_  as they spill into the bedroom. Finn can’t stop staring at him, basking in Julian’s light as they fall to the mattress. He feels giddy, maybe even a little bit teary.

He’s definitely had too much whiskey.

“Julian, I love you. You know that, right?”

Julian snorts as he removes his boots, chucking them carelessly aside. “Of course I know that, my dear.”

Finn fumbles to remove his shoes, shirt, trousers. He’s a man on a mission as he crawls into Julian’s lap, shamelessly straddling his waist . He leans in, his nose moving softly against that long, sharp line of his jaw, clumsy fingers tugging at his shirt, pushing it off his shoulders.

That familiar, satisfying flush blooms upon Julian’s cheeks as Finn presses his lips to his ear. “I want you to fuck me, Julian.”

Julian stutters, before a quick fit of giggles overtake him, only to be stifled when he pulls Finn down into a kiss. A muffled moan of pleasure rocks through him as their tongues meet, Finn arching against him, not an inch left between them.

Julian pulls away, but Finn follows, wanting more, chasing his kiss-reddened lips. Instead, Julian sucks a trail of bruising kisses along his throat, and Finn tips his head back, wanting to be claimed, feeling supplicant,  _overwhelmed_ by how much he wants to be taken by him.

He not-so-subtlety grinds his hips, whispering a broken, “please,” as Julian laves his tongue over the red marks he’s left upon warm skin. Finn leans back, and Julian can’t help but to run his hand over all that muscle, eye wide with wonder as he takes him in, Finn’s breath catching in his throat as Julian’s fingers find the soft trail of hair that dips beneath the waistband of his underwear.

He’s hard, turned on and turned around, groaning loudly when long fingers curl around his length, stroking slowly, his thumb spreading the wetness that’s beaded at the tip down his shaft, palm slick and hot as he glides over him, unmaking him with expert precision.

Their lips meet again, and it’s all tongue and teeth, Julian tugging at his bottom lip as Finn makes work of getting Julian’s underwear off. They laugh against one another’s mouths as they awkwardly manoeuvre to be rid of the final shreds of fabric that separate them, Julian cupping the firm curve of Finn’s ass to hitch him closer, both of them gasping from the friction that follows.

“Julian…” Finn whimpers, so blindingly  _ready_ for him he can barely think straight. He’s pretty sure the alcohol has little to do with the way he’s feeling, the way he wants him.

Julian grabs their trusty vial of slick from the nightstand, clumsy as he fiddles with stopper. He reaches around and brushes his fingertips over his entrance, teasing, wonderfully in control and thoroughly enjoying the way Finn writhes against him. He watches intently as he presses a finger inside, Finn’s golden gaze locking with his as he opens him up, his chest heaving, neck littered with delightful, slowly purpling marks.

Julian pulls his fingers free, unable to wait any longer. Finn adjusts his position and hovers over the tip of his cock, and he’s kissing him again, hands everywhere, unable to settle as Julian pushes inside with a steady roll of his hips.

Finn splays his palm upon Julian’s chest, feeling the erratic thrum of his heart as he begins to move above him. His legs shake with the effort, his chest tight as Julian looks up at him, silver eye sparkling and hooded, cheeks flushed, the colour spilling down over his broad chest. He’s beautiful,  _wrecked_ , and Finn smirks, pushing greedy fingers into his hair. “Mine,” he purrs, tugging gently. “Mine, mine,  _mine_.”

Julian nods slowly, a smile curling on his lips. “Yes,  _yours_.”

Finn can see Julian faltering, his fingers digging into Finn’s hips hard enough to bruise as Finn picks up his pace, bouncing beautifully in his lap. Julian wraps a hand around Finn’s cock, stroking him, watching as Finn folds, eyes squeezed tightly shut as he comes with a ragged cry, spilling onto Julian’s stomach. It’s too much, all of it, the thick, hot,  _slick_ feel of Julian inside him, so unfamiliar, yet so bloody incredible.

Julian wraps his arms around Finn’s waist, guiding him through his final thrusts as he finally lets go, spills inside him, Finn’s name falling from his lips like a broken prayer.

They stayed wrapped up in each other for a moment as they come down, chests heaving, skin slick with sweat. Finn presses a flurry of kisses all over Julian’s face, laughing lightly, giddy. “God, I love you. That was…  _god_.”

Julian whimpers as Finn moves off him, the emptiness sudden and jarring. They fall to the mattress, tangling their limbs together, heads swimming with booze, lust,  _love_.

Finn watches him through half-lidded eyes. “Well done,” he smirks, crinkling his nose as Julian swats his chest playfully.

Julian sighs, nuzzling his face against Finn’s neck, pulling him closer. “Ass.”


	216. Asra x f!Apprentice 12.

She waits for him, wanting him even more when he’s not around, his absence slowly driving her insane. He’s been gone a mere week, this journey one of the shortest, and yet it feels like it was forever ago he was in her arms.

The bed is so empty without him, so when he finally slides under soft sheets beside her, she stirs from her faux slumber and turns to face him, a wry smile on her lips. “You’re home.”

Asra nods once, and he knows just what she needs, he needs it too, those violet eyes burning into her, reading her like a book.

He crawls over her, capturing her lips in a heated kiss. They breathe each other in, her fingers threading through cloud-white hair, tugging, needing him to know how badly she wants him. She whimpers and he greedily swallows it, his hands sliding down,  _down_  pushing up under the hem of the loose shirt she’s wearing,  _his_  shirt. He smirks when he realises, raising his eyebrow in question, thumbing the fabric. “Mine?”

She shrugs playfully. “Not anymore.”

Her hands run over his back, tracing the divots of his spine, feeling his strong shoulders move under her fingertips as he pulls away from her, just enough to really get a look at her. She knows she’s flushed, panting, maybe a little desperate, but he smiles and she finds it hard to care. She  _is_  desperate.

He surges in, covering her cheeks, jaw, throat with an abundance of quick kisses, whispering her name against warm skin.

He unbuttons the shirt with a simple click of his fingers, his spell parrying the fabric to bare all that skin, eyes hooded as he palms the soft peak of her breast, and she quakes beneath him, back arching off the mattress in a sinuous bow, rising up,  _up_ until she finds the friction she so desires.

He’s hard, painfully so, thick and ready between his legs. She curls delicate fingers around his length, and he inhales sharply, just as broken for her as she is for him. “Yes…” he whispers, smiling softly to himself.

His unfairly long, white lashes flutter closed as she strokes him. In return he reaches down, teases her, and,  _god_ , she’s so wet for him,  _aching_ for him, a blinding want that rocks her to her core. He presses a curled digit inside, beckoning until her back is arched again, her fingers falling away from him to fist at the sheets.

Every expert touch shows her how much he knows her, how he’s learned all the ways to unmake her. “Asra…”

He pulls his hand away, pressing that slick digit to his lips, tasting her, their gazes locked. He looks sinful, lips glistening, and just that sight alone has her begging,  _pleading_. “Asra, now. I need you now.”

He rises to his knees, dutifully settles between her legs with a deadly grin, all of that lean muscle under deep, tawny skin tempting above her. “Yes, my love,” he says. “You can have me.”

He ghosts a touch over her breast, rolling her nipple between his thumb and forefinger as he passes, trailing down to trace the curve of her waist, her hips. He grasps his length, parting her thighs as he strokes himself, watching her crumble as she waits, her chest heaving as she’s driven mad with want.

She feels the tip of him press against her, and he slowly,  _slowly_ pushes forward, fingers digging into the arch of her hips as he buries himself to the hilt. His chin falls to his chest, eyes clenched shut as he gathers himself. She’s not helping him with the way she writhes, desperately seeking movement, anything to relieve this incessant ache between her legs.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he stutters, slowly pulling back before he slams back inside, making her toes curl, her legs tightening around his hips as he finds his rhythm.

His touch bruises, his breaths laboured as that slick,  _tight_  heat engulfs him. “So… s-so beautiful,” he purrs, his name falling from her parted lips on a breath, her hair a messy halo upon the pillow. “You feel so good,  _too_ good.”

She pulls herself together long enough to stare at him, and she still can’t believe he’s hers, especially when he’s like this. He’s so handsome,  _devastating_ , utterly lost in her and only her.

He presses his thumb over that tight bundle of nerves and matches the rhythm of his hips, and,  _god_ , this is all she’s been waiting for. Waiting for him to pry her apart, to put her back together again and  _again_. She tightens around him, her hand covering her mouth as she cries out, and he tugs it away in protest. “Let me hear you.”

She gasps, blinded as the crest of her orgasm rolls over her, watching him struggle to hold on as she tightens around him, her legs trembling, squeezing him.

He curls forward, burying himself deep, as deep as he can as he comes, filling her up with a choked-off cry, shoulders hunched before he relaxes, finally sated. He stills, hissing as she shamelessly grinds her hips with a mischievous smile, watching him shudder and shake.

He reluctantly pulls out, groaning with the effort, the loss of all that perfect heat. She tugs him down against her chest, sweat-slick skin hot to the touch as they embrace, her fingers toying with the soft hair at the nape of his neck. He drapes a hand over her waist, presses a kiss to the hollow of her throat where her pulse thrums.

“Welcome home,” she grins, basking in his glow as he tilts his head to look up at her.

“And what a welcome it was.”


	217. Asra x f!Apprentice 13.

The look in his eyes hurts her, it’s pleading, an unspoken  _‘don’t do this’._

Asraknows whats coming, and the disappointment is written all over his face. She’s predictable, a perfect storm waiting to burst, to destroy anything in her path. 

But how can she let him leave again? Amaros may have half of her soul, but Asra holds half of her heart, if not all of it. She feels it deep in the cage of her ribs, that incessant  _ache_  when he’s not here, when he just… disappears. 

“Aurora, please. I must…” 

“No!” She shakes her head, lips trembling, tears falling freely down flushed cheeks. She goes from sad, to angry, to  _furious_  in a matter of seconds, feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand, her fists clenched so hard her nails draw blood upon her palm. 

_He wasn’t going to say goodbye._

The power flows over her, through her, white-gold hair raising static around her. “Prohibere eum, Armaros.”

The words fall from her lips in a voice she doesn’t recognize, and she regrets it immediately. Armaros emerges from nothingness, a shadowy arm reaching out and curling around Asra’s wrist. 

Asra flinches, but doesn’t protest, allows the demon to grab him. He meets her gaze, vivid violet eyes shining with tears that will never fall. His lips move, but she can’t hear him, can’t do anything but _feel._   

She’s stuck to the spot where she stands, and all she wants to do is reach out, to take it all back. She needs help, needs answers, and she won’t get them with him gone.  

“Asra, I can’t do this without you, any of this. It… it _hurts,”_ she sobs, voice a broken, raspy thing as she chokes back more tears. Her throat burns, and all she can taste is ash. She meets Armaros’ glowing gaze and he releases Asra without hesitation, dutifully stepping back into the shadows. 

Asra closes the gap between them and catches her before she crumbles, her knees giving way beneath her. They fall to the floor in a heap, Aurora curled in on herself in his lap. He strokes her hair, presses his lips to her temple. Words are whispered against her skin and she finally feels  _safe_. 

She’s a coward, a  _brat_ who can’t help but hurt the ones she loves just to get her own way, and yet, in this moment, she can’t seem to really care. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

“Hush,” he begins, holding her, rocking her. “Just  _breathe_.” 

She presses her lips to his throat, his hands on her skin like a firelighter, sparking that blossom of warmth in the pit of her stomach. His smell, the way he tastes, all of it maddens her, drives her insane. She’s selfish, so bloody _selfish_.

She splays her palm upon his chest, seeking his heartbeat to soothe her. She feels nothing. 


	218. Asra x f!Apprentice 14.

She peels away her soaked-through clothes, hanging them by the fire. Asra does the same, and she hums her appreciation as he places warm furs over her shoulders, dropping to sit beside her.

She closes her eyes, and his hands are on her arms, sliding up, moving the wet hair that drapes over her shoulder aside so he can press his lips to her throat. He proceeds to hold her face in his hands, and he smiles, the soft light from the fire casting soft shadows on his perfect face.

“What are you thinking?” she says, reaching up to press her hand atop his, holding his touch against her cheek.

He hesitates, opening his lips to speak, but the words don’t come. Instead, he smiles, shakes his head as if chasing away a thought, his thumb brushing the curve of her cheek. “I don’t want to think right now. I just…”

Then, he’s kissing her. It’s rough but welcome, needy. She climbs into his lap and places a firm hand upon his bare chest and pushes him back onto the rug, and he goes down gracefully.

He tugs her bottom lip between his teeth as she arches against him, and he moans against her mouth. “ _Aurora_ ,” a broken whisper, a whisper he repeats again and again.

She sits back, beautiful above him as he pushes a hand beneath the hem of her undershirt, the flimsy fabric leaving little to the imagination. His eyes sparkle, hooded with lust as his hand finds her breast, gently kneading it, watching her gasp as he rolls her nipple between his fingers.

She palms his through his underwear, laughs lightly as his hips hitch helplessly up against her hand. She can’t wait, doesn’t care where they are, she needs him, and needs him  _now_.

She quickly removes the final scraps of fabric that separate them, taking him in her hand as she curves over him, golden hair falling in a curtain around them. He watches intently as she reaches between her legs and touches herself. It’s quick, needy and,  _god_ , she’s so ready for him.

His hands grip her thighs as she places herself above him, positioning carefully before she sinks down, taking him in inch by perfect inch. Her head falls back, the burning,  _blinding_  pleasure of him filling her overwhelming.

When she’s fully seated, Asra sheathed to the hilt, he moves to sit up, needs to be closer, wraps his arms around her as he starts to roll his hips. Their gazes lock, violet meeting sky-blue as he fucks her, her lips parted on a breath. He rests his head against her collarbone, fingertips digging into her hips, guiding her.

“Yes, I…  _yes_ , Asra.”

He drags his teeth across her skin as she begins to take charge, his hips helplessly thrusting upwards to meet hers. She’s close already, the angle and the friction blinding, liquid fire in her veins as that familiar heat blooms in the pit of her stomach.

Asra is gasping, whimpering beneath her, his eyes firmly fixed on the subtle bounce of her breasts, his fingers trembling against sweat-slick skin as he claws for purchase.

“Aurora, look at me,” he says, his voice pitched low and raspy, and she obliges, her dark lashes fluttering open.

They move together now, their rhythms matched as they chase their finish. They both smile, and she leans in to catch his lips in a kiss as she falls apart, Asra greedily swallowing her cries as she comes. He holds her tighter as she trembles, the once-elegant roll of her hips a desperate stutter as her orgasm crests.

He pushes his hand through her hair, forehead against forehead as he follows her, pushing up  _hard_ as he spills himself inside her, the maddening clench of her walls around him tipping him further over the edge.

He falls back against the furs, beautifully sated as she catches her breath. She’s glowing, and not just from the now-dull firelight.

She shamelessly grinds her hips one more time, both of them hissing, giggling as he scrambles to still her movements. “ _Ah!_  Tease,” he groans, shaking his head as she collapses against his chest.

Asra idly traces the curve of her spine with his fingertips, glancing over at the dying flames. “Mmm that’s going to go out if I leave it any longer.”

Aurora shakes her head, placing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Can’t we stay like this forever?”


	219. Finn x Omen 4.

Finn loved holding hands. It was the simplest form of showing affection, and yet it was probably his favourite.

They walked through the market, fingers laced together, Finn stroking idle circles on the back of Omen’s hand with his thumb as they went.

He probably looked like an idiot with the huge grin he had plastered on his face, but he found it hard to care.

Omen obviously noticed, looking up at him with those inquisitive, chocolate-brown eyes. “Are you okay?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah. I’m fine. Why do you ask?”

Omen quirked an eyebrow in question, not entirely convinced. “You’re just… very happy. Uhhh! Oh! Not that that’s a bad thing, it’s just maybe creeping me out a bit?”

Finn looked around, checking for prying eyes as he led Omen off to one of the secluded little alleyways that branched off the main street. He leaned back against the wall, hooking his thumbs into Omen’s belt loops to reel him in, their hips flush.

“I just…” he began, feeling utterly ridiculous, but hopelessly enthralled by the other man. “I love you, that’s all,” he shrugged, lips quirking into a smile. He pulled Omen’s hand up, pressing a kiss to his knuckles, his other hand around his waist, fingertips stroking that sliver of tempting bared skin between his shirt and trousers.

Omen turned a delightful shade of red, eyes wide as he sank against Finn, gratefully melting into him. “Oh. I see. Well, I love you too.”

He smiled then, and Finn could no longer resist.

He placed a finger beneath Omen’s chin, tilting his face upward as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to his lips.


	220. Asra x Julian 29.

Water / Hurt feelings. 

* * *

 

 

“What are you doing out here so late, Ilya?”

Julian barely looks up, focusing on the soft ripple on the surface of the water. He runs his finger along the edge of the fountain, the stone cold against his skin.

The reflection that looks back at him isn’t his, or at least doesn’t feel like it. He shakes his head, let’s messy auburn curls fall to cover his tainted eye. “Nothing.”

He feels a warm hand touch his shoulder, Asra standing close. His presence is tempting, infuriating, especially when he knows he can no longer have him.

“Come inside, it’s getting cold. I’ll make you a cup of coffee.”

Julian shrugs off his touch, turns his head. He doesn’t want him to see him like this, doesn’t want anyone to see him like this. “Please, I just want to be left alone. It’s better that way.”

Asra sighs loudly, and Julian hears a thud, followed by another. Then, Asra is climbing into the fountain, the water lapping around his waist. Julian stares at him with wide-eyes. “W-what are you doing?!”

Asra shrugs, and Julian can’t escape his gaze now, not without being downright rude, anyway. “I’m trying to talk to my friend, but he’s being too stubborn. So, I’ll catch a cold if I have to.”

Julian reaches out and curls his fingers around Asra’s wrist, tugging at him to step out of the freezing water. “Fool,” he grumbles, helping him out.

Asra falls against him, offering him a wolfish grin that makes his heart flutter in his chest. “Oops.”

Julian narrows his gaze, his hands falling to grip Asra’s waist. Asra’s breath hitches as Julian’s fingertips dig in, the sound quickly reminding Julian that he’s not his to touch, not anymore.

His hands fall away, Asra still close, too close. Those violet eyes sparkle in the darkness as they gaze up at him, and he reaches to brush Julian’s hair away from his face. He doesn’t look at him with pity or disgust, instead he smiles, a soft,  _beautiful_ smile, one that’s rare, precious. “Ilya, you don’t need to hide from me. You know better than that.”

“I’m a monster. A useless,  _dying_ monster. You’d be better off staying away from me.”

Asra runs his thumb over the curve of his cheek, cupping his face in his palm. “No, Ilya. You’d have been better off staying away from me.” His hand falls away, eyes sad, painfully so. “If you did, you wouldn’t be in this state.”

Julian frowns, biting back the tears that threaten to spill, his throat tight. “No… not better off. My life has been richer for having known you, Asra.”

Asra swallows thickly, averting his gaze. He looks like he might cry too, clearing his throat before he speaks, but there’s still an unsteadiness in his voice. “Oh. Well, I… I feel the same.”

They share a quick look, something passing between them before Asra interjects. “Now, come on. You’re not dead yet, let’s get back to work.”

Julian follows him. He’ll always follow him.


	221. Julian x m!Apprentice 99.

Tension / Negotiation 

* * *

 

Finn’s heart pounded in his chest, the effort of trying to seem calm on the surface when he wanted to scream, tear his hair out, was exhausting. 

Julian had his coat on, his things packed, and he was really,  _finally_ about to leave him forever. Finn lived in fear of this moment, but now it was happening, it didn’t feel real. 

“Julian, I’m begging you,  _please_  don’t do this.” 

He hadn’t hesitated, hadn’t even attempted to compromise when the announcement had been made. 

The Doctor’s head; a ransom issued by the palace. The reward was too great for even the most loyal of Julian’s friends to ignore. 

Nadia was getting desperate, and she’d stop at nothing to find him, even if he was dead upon arrival, she didn’t care. Finn had tried, had  _screamed_  at her until his throat was raw, but she was beyond wanting to know the truth. She just wanted blood. 

“Let me come with you.” 

Julian turned, his coat swaying about his knees. He looked tired, exhausted, and Finn could tell he was fed up,  _done._ Tearspooled in his beautiful grey eyes, his lip quivering. “Finnegan,  _Finn_. You cannot follow where I lead, you know it’ll just put you in danger.” He stepped forward, cool hands holding Finn’s face, his thumbs brushing away the tears that now fell freely down flushed cheeks. “Please don’t cry, I can’t bear it.” 

Finn gripped his wrists, holding him tight, tight enough to feel the quicksilver thrum of his pulse. Julian was crumbling too, his calmness a facade. “Tell me you don’t love me and I’ll let you go.” 

Julian’s eyes widened, the murky red sclera vivid against pale skin. “I… you know I can’t. Why would yo–” 

“Because if you’re going to break my heart, you better do it properly.” 

Julian had no response to that. Instead, he reeled him in, held him close to his chest while he sobbed, both of them breaking,  _broken_. 

Finn pulled away, catching his lips in a desperate kiss that screamed, stay, stay,  _stay._


	222. Julian x Asra x m!Apprentice 11.

Julian woke up in darkness, an uncomfortable crook in his neck as he sat up, stretching his limbs, relishing in the loud crack that rang out as his bones settled back into their rightful places. He’d fallen asleep in the kitchen, it would appear, a cup of coffee left forgotten and cold on the table in front of him. 

He lazily dragged himself out of the chair, smiling to himself at the thought of Asra and Finn keeping the bed warm for him, looking forward to crawling between them and resting his head on something a little comfier than a wooden table. 

As he ascended the stairs, he heard a soft, rhythmic creaking, his curiosity piqued when he reached the landing and heard a breathy moan, a moan that could only have come from Asra. 

He pushed the door to the bedroom open, and the sight that met him was certainly one to behold, and one to make him regret his late-night quest for coffee and his unplanned nap. 

Asra was on all-fours, his spine bowed beautifully as Finn thrust in to him from behind, big hands gripping his slim waist, guiding Asra back to meet the slow, teasing rhythm of his hips. 

Julian stood, glued to the spot, a sharp exhale leaving his lips. Finn whipped his head around, spotting him with a sly smile. “Oh, nice of you to join us.” 

Asra mumbled lazily, not bothering to look up, too lost in the moment. 

Julian cleared his throat. “Uhm… I… can I?” 

Finn shook his head and  _smirked_ , running a hand up over Asra’s side, making him shudder as he traced the dip and curve of his rib cage. “ _No_ , you cannot.” 

Julian whined, carefully walking over to take a seat on the bed beside them. He was hard, shamelessly palming the growing bulge inside his trousers as he watched the two of them rut, so beautiful,  _graceful_  as they moved together. He wondered if he and Finn, or he and Asra ever looked that perfect, quickly deciding that nothing could match this. 

Finn was broad, well-muscled, perfect sinew stretching and flexing under creamy skin as he met Asra’s hips with his own, the sinful slap of skin-on-skin reverberating throughout the tiny bedroom. Asra was supplicant for Finn, a rare sight, one that was enthralling and definitely foreign to Julian.

Asra’s head fell forward, chin against his chest as he continued to stroke himself. Julian swallowed thickly, wanting to reach out, to cover Asra’s hand with his own, help coax him over the edge. He resisted, undoing his own trousers, slipping a hand inside his briefs and hissing as the cool skin of his palm met his warm,  _aching_ length. 

Finn bit his lip, sweat beading on his brow as he picked up his pace, the quickening of his thrusts making Asra cry out as he buried himself deeper,  _harder._

Julian stroked himself, his eyes greedily flickering back and forth, taking them both in, an incessant twinge of jealously thrumming in his chest. “You… you two will be the death of me,” he choked out, his voice pitched low. 

Finn threw his head back, eyes clenched shut, his whole body tense. “Asra, I’m…” 

Asra nodded, pushing himself up, his back flush against Finn’s chest, head coming to rest back upon Finn’s shoulder, their lips meeting in a crushing kiss.  _God_  they looked amazing, Julian’s mouth going dry at the sight of them. 

Finn replaced Asra’s hand with his own, and Asra came over his curled fingers with a choked-off, desperate cry. Finn bit down  _hard_  on his bared throat, quickly kissing away the sting and muffling a loud moan against tawny skin as he came, his big hands mapping Asra’s torso greedily. 

They fell back, Asra now seated in Finn’s lap, Finn still sheathed to the hilt, both coming down from that blissful high. Julian whimpered, his cock  _throbbing_  in his hand. They both looked at him, gold and violet gazes locking with his, their chests heaving with labored breaths. 

Finn didn’t look away from Julian as he started to press a trail of kisses along the column of Asra’s throat, up along his jaw. Asra’s lips curved up into a smug smile. “ _Ilya_ ,” he purred, his head lulling to the side as Finn continued to devour him. “Look at you.” 

Julian curled in on himself, shaking, shuddering to pieces as he finally fell apart, spilling hot and sticky over his fist. He gasped, clawing for a steady breath, two sets of vibrant eyes still burning into him. “Oh… _fuck_.” 

Asra removed himself from Finn’s lap, hissing at the loss of contact as he crawled over to where Julian sat. He pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth, before falling back down onto the mattress, his cloud-white hair a halo upon the pillow. “That’s what you miss out on when you wander off in the middle of the night.” 

Finn chuckled, moving to embrace Asra, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck. “Mmm come to bed, Julian.” 

Julian obliged without question, quickly removing his clothes and getting under the covers, letting Asra wrap his arms around him, pulling him close, Finn’s hand coming to rest upon his waist. “I’ll be mad at you both in the morning,” Julian mumbled, smiling as Asra pressed a kiss to his shoulder. 


	223. Julian 3.

Finn is away, his absence like a hole in Julian’s chest, dramatic as that may be. He rolls over and cracks his eye open, it’s still dark, moonlight streaming through the tattered curtains. He hates being alone in this bed,  _Finn’s_  bed, but the lingering smell of him on the sheets is enough to keep Julian sane, grounded.

He reaches over, splays his palm upon the cold, empty spot where his warm body usually lays. With a heavy sigh, he rolls onto his back, staring up at the cracked ceiling. He would be home soon, but the ache is persistent, and Julian can’t help but to let his thoughts wander.

It’s been so long since he’s even needed to touch himself, he’s been spoilt with the constant contact of that perfect,  _perfect_  man. He closes his eyes, imagines him bare and beautiful next to him, that mischievous glimmer in golden eyes, that devastating smirk that always has Julian weak.

He runs his hand down his chest, mimicking the way Finn touches him, and, though it’s not quite the same, it’ll do.

He bites his bottom lip as his hand moves down his abdomen, trailing through the coarse hairs that dip below his waistband. He shudders as cool fingertips brush the crown of his cock, already half-hard, getting harder as he fists the base.

His cheeks burn, flushed in the way Finn loves as his breath quickens, his hand beginning to move, languid strokes that slowly begin to unmake him, that welcome heat pooling low in his abdomen.

He imagines Finn pressing his lips to his ear, whispering filthy promises, his teeth tugging at his earlobe. Julian arches up off the bed, pushing up into his curled fist, imagining that it’s Finn he’s pushing into, and…  _oh_.

His toes curl against the mattress, his legs trembling, lips parted on a gasping breath. “Finn…” he groans, smiling to himself, halfway there already, so easy when thoughts of the raven haired man are floating through his brain.

He lets out a slow, shuddering breath as that heat blooms out and around to the base of his spine, his movements faster now, chasing that finish. He pictures Finn licking his way down his heaving chest, wrapping his perfect mouth around the flushed head of his cock, humming greedily as he tastes the salt-sweet liquid that pools at the tip.

Julian tenses, the thought too much, too bloody  _good_  and he comes with a choked-off cry, curling in on himself as he paints his stomach with hot streaks of come. “Fuck,” he stutters, pressing his head back against the pillow, blinking his eyes open.

He laughs to himself at the thought of telling Finn, able to picture the way his eyes would widen, then sparkle, that sly, too-handsome grin curling upon his perfect lips as he suggests that he show him.

And,  _god_ , he couldn’t wait to do just that.


	224. Asra x f!Apprentice 15.

Aurora lays on the bed, lounging in the midday sunshine that streams through the curtains as she reads. Asra is beside her, but she can feel him getting restless, fidgety. She grins, folding the corner of the page and placing the book on the nightstand. “Asra, do you want to go out?”

He cocks his head at her, and as her eyes meet his, she can tell what he’s thinking, what he  _wants_.

He wordlessly shifts to settle between her thighs, her breath hitching as he places warm hands upon her bent knees, pushing them down her thighs, his touch setting her alight.

He presses his lips to the soft skin of her inner thigh, hands continuing their ascent up her body, pushing up the fabric of her skirt until it settles around her waist. Her head falls back against the pillow, her fingers tangling among soft, white curls as he dips in, his nose brushing over her tensed stomach, moving agonisingly slowly as he teases her, building her up ready to break her down.

She drapes her legs over his shoulders, caging him in with a grin. He groans, licking his lips at the sight of her as she adjusts her hips in a not-so-subtle attempt at hurrying him up. “Asra…” she warns, unable to stop herself smiling as he laughs lightly. He’s toying with her, and she’s weak for it.

He finally,  _finally_  runs his tongue over that sensitive,  _aching_  bundle of nerves, her back arching off the mattress as if he’d electrified her, her free hand fisting the sheets desperately, the other tugging at his hair, scratching his scalp.

He stills his actions, blown-black eyes raising to savour the sight of her falling apart. She whimpers, a plea for him to continue, and he dutifully concedes. Her heels dig into his back, urging him closer as he laves his tongue over her entrance, lapping up that sweet,  _sweet_ wetness.

The pressure is gentle but maddening, every dip and trace of his tongue driving her to madness, splitting her open with expert precision. She gasps as his hands slide beneath her, gripping the soft curve of her ass and tugging her closer with a rumbling growl, a growl that rocks her straight to her core, makes her tremble.

He’s lost now, fingers gripping her tightly as she rolls her hips, shamelessly fucking his mouth. He slips a finger inside her, curling it, beckoning. She sighs his name, watches lean muscle shift beneath delicious tawny skin as he moves, his finger pumping inside her twisting until he finds that spot that finally unmakes her.

Both of her hands are in his hair now. “Fuck, fuck,  _fuck_.” She’s lost, grinding against his tongue as he rides out the crest of her orgasm.

He pulls away, and the sight of him is sinful,  _devastating_ , his lips glistening, parted on a breath. He smirks, crawling over her, his cock straining against his trousers. “Why would I want to go out when there’s so many things we can do here?”


	225. Julian x m!Apprentice 100.

Seeing him upset is unnerving. He’s the cooling calm, the one that soothes him, kisses away  _his_  pain, and now he’s the one that’s breaking. 

Julian quickly shakes off his shock, removing his gloves as the door shuts out the cold that follows him in off the street. He’s on his knees in seconds, gazing up at Finn where he shakes in the chair, _trembling_ with the force of his sobbing.

“Finn. _Finnegan_ , look at me,” he stutters, placing tentative hands upon his thighs. “What is it? Are you hurt? Are yo–”

“I’m fine.” 

Julian almost wants to laugh at the absurdity of his lie,  _would_  laugh if it wasn’t so heartbreaking seeing him like this. His flushed cheeks are a foreign sight, streaked with tears that flow fast and free. “Finn,  _please_.”

Finn stands, the chair scraping across the tiles loudly as it scatters backwards. He swipes at his cheeks with shaking fingertips, then takes a deep breath, blinking back more tears that threaten to spill. “Just… give me a minute.” 

His back is turned to Julian now, and he’s counting between deep, drawn-out breaths. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale; exactly how he taught Julian, how he guided him through when he needed it the most. He accepted his mantle as Julian’s protector long ago, but even the strongest of men needed to crumble every now and again. 

Finally, Finn turns to him, but doesn’t meet his gaze. His eyes are red-rimmed, his mouth curled downwards, voice a mere whisper. “I thought you left.” 

Julian falters, and, _god_ , he’s been so bloody stupid. 

He left yesterday morning, before Finn awoke. Left without saying anything, too wrapped-up in his own vengeful endeavors to realize what it would look like, especially after everything he’d put him through all those months ago on the docks. 

“Oh, Finn. I’m… I’m so  _sorry,_ ” he mumbles, the idea that this is what he had the ability to do to the man he loved killing him, a dull ache blooming in his chest as he steps forward. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, I swear it.” 

Finn lets him wrap his arms around his waist, his head falling to rest upon his shoulder. “I believe you.” 

Julian holds him for a moment, long fingers stroking his messy raven hair, smoothing it back into it’s rightful place. Eventually, Finn returns the embrace, nuzzling closer, breathing him in. His heartbeat is steady, thrumming peacefully in time with Julian’s own. 

“Hey,” Julian whispers, reaching out, pressing his hand to Finn’s face, thumb brushing over his still-flushed cheekbones, “I  _love_  you. I’ll never leave you again, not… not like that. You have my word.” 

Finn finally meets his gaze, golden eyes clear, sparkling. He covers Julian’s hand with his own, holding it still as he turns to press a kiss to the center of his palm. “Just… tell me where you’re going next time. I was beside myself.”

“I’m a fool, aren’t I?” Julian sighs. 

Finn smiles, and it’s genuine,  _beautiful_ , his tears forgotten. “Yes, but you’re  _my_  fool.” 


	226. Finn x Alkar 8.

Finn smiles as that familiar thud breaks him from his slumber, rolling over to catch Alkar crouching by the window. Finn leaves it open now; an invitation.

Alkar stands, narrowing his scarlet gaze as he studies Finn and the vacant spot beside him. “No doctor tonight?”

“Not tonight,” Finn says, pulling himself up, letting the sheets fall away as he straightens. “Disappointed?”

Alkar scoffs, walking towards Finn’s dresser, poking and prodding at the mismatched trinkets, flicking the rubbery leaf of a succulent. “I wouldn’t say disappointed.” He throws him a look over his shoulder, shadows dancing over his handsome face, making his features seem even sharper,  _deadly_.

Finn wishes he could read him, but Alkar is a closed book tonight, but… he loves a challenge. He stands, unashamedly naked as he joins Alkar at the far end of the tiny bedroom. He grabs his hand, prying a shiny crystal from his fingers and putting it back in its rightful place. He sustains his grip on Alkar’s wrist, feeling the quicksilver thrum of his pulse beneath his fingertips.

They stand in silence, the tension between them thick, suffocating like a miasma. “What do you want, Alkar?”

Alkar tries to look offended, a frown fixed upon his brow, nose crinkled, but there’s a quirk of a smile dancing at the edge of scarred lips. Before Finn can even think of questioning him further, Alkar pounces, the force of it sending Finn stumbling backward, both of them falling to the bed.

Alkar hovers over him, his gaze flickering over Finn, greedily taking him in. “Do you really have to ask?”

He surges in for a kiss, catching Finn’s bottom lip between his teeth and tugging hard enough for it to sting. Finn growls, the sound rumbling deep in his chest as Alkar slides down, down onto his knees. He looks up at him, a glimmer of mischief in pretty eyes as he licks his lips.

Finn’s legs part easily as Alkar places his hands upon his thighs, his touch cold, hands still warming from being out in the freezing Vesuvian night. His breath hitches as Alkar curls deft fingers around his cock, his other hand squeezing his thigh, fingers digging  _hard_.

Finn can’t help but groan as Alkar meets his golden gaze with a look of unabashed desire, he reaches out to drag his thumb over Alkar’s lips, staring at him with wide-eyed wonder. “You’re beautiful, has anyone ever told you that?”

Alkar grumbles, dark cheeks flushing as he moves away from Finn’s touch. “Yes…  _maybe_.” He seemingly shakes off whatever annoyance had taken hold of him, returning to the task in hand as he licks a wet stripe along Finn’s length, right from base to tip, his tongue swirling around the crown of his cock, hand still wrapped tight around the base.

Finn forgets his question, forgets his bloody name as Alkar devours him, takes him deep, right down to the root. He can’t resist reaching out to tug that scarf from around his head, letting his dark hair fall freely, running his hand through it, long strands snarling about his fingers.

Alkar growls his disapproval, but the rumble of it is exquisite as it vibrates through Finn, sending a shudder rolling down his spine. “Alkar,  _fuck_ …”

Alkar’s eyes fly open, looking up at him again as he releases him with a sinful  _pop_ , gasping for a steady breath. “I mean… if you want to,” he smirks, so fucking  _cocky_  Finn could kill him. He quickly stands, the thick outline of his erection evident beneath tight, restricting fabric.

Finn hooks a finger into his waistband, reeling him in and unlacing his trousers, Alkar dutifully stepping out of them before shrugging his flimsy shirt off his shoulders. Finn’s hands travel over his body, over every dip and perfect curve, coming to rest at the base of his spine. He presses a kiss to his muscled abdomen, gazing up at him through long, dark lashes. Alkar falters for a moment, his guard down as he whimpers.

He climbs over Finn, and Finn rolls him, pressing him down against the mattress. He runs his nose along warm skin, right from the arching wings of his hipbones, up,  _up_ to his throat, his jaw. He stops at his ear, voice low. “On your knees.”

He’s never seen Alkar move so fast, moving onto his front, spread so beautifully before him. Finn’s hands roam over his hips, down the infuriating perfect curve of his ass. He reaches into the nightstand and takes out that trusty vial of slick, coating his fingers liberally before he presses a digit, then another inside, readying him. Alkar’s head falls to the pillow, muffling a string of incoherent curses into the feathers.

When Finn is satisfied that he’s ready, he lines up behind him, pressing inside  _slowly_ , waiting once he’s buried to the hilt, his hips flush with Alkar’s backside. He can’t move yet, doesn’t dare to until he adjusts to the tight heat of him, so  _blindingly_  good he could cry.

Alkar’s shameless, arching his back as he begins to writhe against him, throwing him a desperate look over his shoulder. “ _Finn_ …”

His name sounds like a plea, and Finn can’t help but to obey, starting to rolling his hips, tittering thrusts that make his toes curl. He covers him, bodies flush as he leans in to press his lips to his throat, moaning against sweat-slick skin. “So good, you feel  _so good_  Alkar.”

Alkar can’t form words, instead turning his head to catch Finn’s lips in a hungry, crushing kiss, breaking away momentarily to cry out as Finn begins to press harder, deeper. The noise of skin-on-skin echos in the tiny bedroom, that and the soft sound of their labored breaths as they both come close to the edge.

“I’m close,” Alkar breathes, hand between his legs, stroking himself in time with Finn’s now-wavering thrusts.

That knowledge spurs Finn on, and he picks up his pace, quickly pulling away as he comes, painting Alkar’s dark skin in streaks. Alkar swiftly follows him, spilling over his fist, ruining the sheets below him. Then, he laughs, a throaty,  _wonderful_  chuckle as he falls to the mattress, rolling onto his back, nose crinkling in disgust when he realizes what he’s laying on. “Oh dear.”

Finn collapses against him, exhausted from the intensity of it, searching for a steady breath. He presses his lips to Alkar’s jaw, tugging at his now-messy hair, loving how utterly  _wrecked_  he looks, the fact the  _he_  did that to  _him_  thrilling.

“Will you stay?”

Alkar looks up at the ceiling, pondering his question. Eventually, he turns, shifting closer, pressing his head into the crook of Finn’s neck. He curls against him, stubbornly not meeting his gaze, but Finn can feel him smile against his skin. “I suppose.”


	227. Asra x Julian 30.

Julian had given him everything last night. His body, his heart, his  _blood_. 

He expects to find a warm body curled against him when he woke, but when he reaches out the pillow is cold, empty. He pushes himself up onto his elbow, soft sheets falling away, pooling around his naked waist.  

He raises his hand to study the angry cut upon his palm. It runs right through his lifeline, and Asra’s words echo in his mind. 

_“How much are you willing to give up, Ilya?”_

Julian rises from the bed, sheet clutched in curled fingers around his waist. There’s a hum of dissonant emotion in the air, maybe remnants of that sickly,  _suffocating_ miasma that had brought him to his knees. Julian was no witch, but he swears he can feel him, his pain, his anguish. 

He finds Asra in the kitchen sat at the table cradling a cup of his favorite black tea. Julian studies him intently, the defensive set of his shoulders, his cold eyes, and he knows him well enough by now to know that he’s _hurting_.  

Julian clears his throat quietly, swallowing the lump that’s formed, dread swirling in the pit of his stomach. He breaks the deafening silence with a joke, teasing enough to raise the mood. “Uhm… was it really _that_  bad?” 

Asra continues to ignore him, but Julian can’t help but notice the way he flinches at his words, and that alone is like a knife to the gut. He’s always been a little paranoid, but he knows. He  _knows._

_He doesn’t want me._

Asra turns to look up at him. “I’m sorry, Ilya,” he whispers, and there’s a note of finality to it, a sadness. 

Julian’s heart pounds in his chest, bile rising in his throat. “You… what are you apologizing for?” It’s a stupid question, a question he knows the answer to.

Asra closes his eyes _tight,_  as if he’s trying to shut out the sight of Julian falling apart before him, his fingers tightening around his mug, white-knuckling. “I can’t do this, I can’t…” he pauses, finally raising his gaze once more, white lashes wet with tears he won’t shed. “I’m  _sorry_.” 

Julian clutches the sheet closer, suddenly feeling exposed, vulnerable. He fights against the hot tears that form in his eyes, blinks them away until they fall freely down his cheeks. He doesn’t want this, doesn’t want to feel, to show him how much this  _hurts,_ but Julian is weak, especially when it comes to Asra. 

Asra stands quickly, his chair protesting loudly as it scrapes back against the stone. He reaches out, hand shaking, before he retracts it, thinking better of touching him. There’s a look in those violet eyes, something desperate, beautiful, so, incredibly  _beautiful,_  but at the same time terrifying. Is he doing this because he wants to, or because he has to? 

Julian struggles to keep a leash on his emotions, unashamedly heartbroken, longing for all of this to be a dream, but he wills his voice to be steady when he speaks. “It’s okay. It’s fine, really. I’ll… I’ll be going, then.” 

He doesn’t look back as he turns and climbs the stairs, not even when Asra calls his name, his voice breaking. He slams the bedroom door, scrambling to gather his clothes from the floor where they’d been discarded in the heat of the moment last night.

He grips his shirt in his hand, then wraps his arms around his middle, as if he’s trying to hold himself together. He hears the front door slam downstairs, and that’s when he finally falls to pieces. 


	228. Finn x Omen 5.

Finn hunches over the tarot table in the back room, brow furrowed as he tries to decipher some of Julian’s ineligible notes that he’d retrieved from the library. 

He hears soft footsteps approaching, smiling to himself as a pair of warm, familiar hands that smell faintly of cinnamon cover his eyes, warm breath in his ear. “Guess who.” 

He stands straight, Omen protesting with a whine, having no choice but to let go, Finn too tall for him to reach. Finn turns to catch him pouting, his brow furrowed. “As if I  _wouldn’t_ know it was you,” he grins, tugging at Omen’s arms which are now firmly crossed over his chest in an act of defiance. 

Omen can’t stay mad for long, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth as he steps closer, Finn yanking him close by his shirt. “I missed you… I suppose.” 

“I missed you too,” Finn chuckles, relishing in his presence, lightly gripping his chin to tilt his face upwards for a languid kiss. Omen melts against him, their bodies seamed tight as the kiss deepens, becomes needy, desperate. 

“ _Finn_ ,” Omen whispers as they break apart, his voice suddenly husky, ragged. He writhes against Finn with a needy moan, tangling his fingers in the soft hair at the nape of his neck, tugging him back in to seam their mouths together. This time it’s heated from the get-go, not a hint of restraint as their tongues slick together greedily.

It’s been too long since Finn has had him, and his every nerve ending is set alight,  _burning_  for him. Finn grips his waist, spinning him, both of them stumbling as he presses Omen  _hard_  against the wall. Omen’s hands are suddenly  _everywhere,_ and when he tugs Finn’s shirt aside andleans in to drag his tongue over his exposed collarbone, tasting the salt of his skin, Finn sees stars. 

“ _Fuck,”_ he laughs, breathless as Omen presses closer, all but climbing his big body, shifting until an unmistakable hardness brushes against Finn’s hip, sending a shower of sparks shuddering through his body. “Tell me,” Finn purrs. “Tell me what you need.” 

He grips Omen’s chin again, just shy of too-tight, his other hand sliding up beneath the hem of his shirt, feeling him shiver beneath his curious fingertips. “I want… I want  _you_ ,” Omen groans, chestnut eyes fluttering closed, lashes kissing the tops of his now-rosy cheeks. 

Finn steps away, surveying him, Omen whimpering at the loss of contact. The sight of him is devastating, he’s wrecked already, hair mussed, clothes askew, lips kiss-reddened and swollen. He sinks back against the wall, practically panting as Finn offers him a wolfish grin, shrugging his shirt off his shoulders, Omen’s hungry eyes flitting over his chest, down,  _down_  to where Finn’s erection strains against his tight black trousers. 

“Please…” he begs, breathless. Reaching out, offering Finn his hand, ready to reel him in. 

Finn can’t help but oblige, driven mad with want in the few, sparse moments he went without his touch. He tugs at Omen’s shirt, pulling it up over his head and discarding it carelessly to the tiles. “Turn around.” 

Omen obeys without question, pressing his chest flush against the wall, Finn reaching around to unlace his trousers, carefully pulling them down, Omen stepping out of them, kicking them aside. He waits patiently as Finn prepares, arching his back as he slides a slick finger inside, pressing his lips to Omen’s throat. Once Finn is satisfied that Omen is ready, he pulls away, freeing himself from the cage of his own trousers. 

He pulls at Omen to face him again, gripping the base of his length, coating it in the leftover slick that covers his fingers. Omen laughs, a breathless, almost  _manic_  noise as he watches Finn stroke himself. Finn quickly grows impatient and grabs Omen beneath the thighs, hitching him up, pressing him back against the wall, relishing in the little shocked noise that falls from his lips. Omen knows this game, and he wraps his legs around Finn’s waist, holding tight as Finn very carefully places himself right  _there_. 

Finn watches, satisfied as Omen’s eyes roll back in his head as he pushes inside, slowly sheathing himself inch by inch, adjusting to the tight, hot,  _perfect_  feel of Omen around him. He runs his nose along Omen’s jaw when he’s finally sheathed to the hilt, trying to find the will to move, not wanting it all to be over before it’s begun. “You feel  _amazing_ ,” he groans, Omen’s blunt fingernails digging into his shoulders. 

“ _Move_ , I beg you,” Omen grins, tipping his head back and letting out a long, shuddering breath as Finn surges upwards with a steady roll of his hips, driving him against the wall with a thud. Omen cries out, and Finn dives in to swallow the delicious noise with a kiss. 

Finn’s arms burn with the effort of holding him up, but the position is worth it, the feel of Omen’s heels digging into his backside, urging him close with every thrust is like no other. It doesn’t take Finn long to come apart, very nearly  _coming_ full stop as Omen tightens around him, his straining cock trapped between them, getting all the friction he needs to push him over the edge. 

“ _Finnegan_ ,” Omen whimpers, his name sounding more beautiful than ever as it falls from those gasping lips, Omen’s head falling to rest upon his shoulder as he shudders,  _shatters_  as the crest of his orgasm washes over him, his come hot between them. 

Finn groans at the sight of him, that gorgeous flush spreading from his cheeks to the tips of his ears, spilling down his chest. He was  _beautiful_ , a shameless, shit-eating grin crossing his lips as his eyes meet Finn’s, and that’s all Finn needs to come undone. He digs his fingers in hard enough to bruise that perfect pale skin as he comes, his legs shaking, seconds from giving way as he muffles a drawn-out moan against the hollow of Omen’s throat. 

He stands still for a second, attempting to regain the feeling in his fuzzy limbs, failing and sliding Omen down the wall until they lay in a heap upon the cold tiles. They laugh, breathless and sated, Omen seated in his lap, Finn still buried inside him. “Oops…” 

Omen falls forward, splaying himself across Finn’s chest, pushing his fingers into messy raven hair and catching his lips in a quick kiss. “I should go away more often if that’s the welcome I get.” 

Finn prods his ribs playfully, eliciting a rather undignified, yet wonderfully endearing snort from him. “You don’t need to go away ever again, do you hear me? That’s an order.” 

Omen sighs dramatically, lips twitching into a smirk as he buries his face into the sweat-slick crook of Finn’s neck, mumbling against his skin. “Yes  _boss_.” 


	229. Julian 4.

Ilya sits and gazes upon the vast field, hundreds of dimly lit tents littering the skyline, glowing in the darkness like fireflies. He jumps as a bottle suddenly appears over his shoulder. Rum. He _hates_ rum, but today is not a day for being picky about his poison. He looks up at the hand that offers it, smiling softly as he accepts it. “Thanks.” 

He doesn’t know the woman, doesn’t need to, not here. Most of them might be nameless to one another, but they all understand, they all share the same burdens, the same experiences. She can clearly see that he needs it more than her tonight.

She wanders off, long raven hair flowing behind her as she shakes it free from her standard issue hat, and he idly wonders to himself what her story might be, what horrors she encountered today, and if she suffers in silence, just like him. 

He pops the stopper and takes a whiff, nose crinkling in disgust as the too-sweet scent fills his nostrils. He sighs, mumbles a quiet, _cheers_ , to himself, and takes a long, drawn-out gulp. The burn hits the back of his throat, vanilla and traces of scorched caramel lingering on the tip of his tongue. It’s not entirely unpleasant, and the warmth spreads through him quickly, counteracting the bite of the cold that turns his cheeks red. 

The moon is full in the sky, stars bright, brighter than he’s ever seen with no city lights marring his view. He takes another sip, making a face before the taste starts to become familiar, comforting. 

A harsh wind catches his hair, too-long auburn curls swirling about his face, a few strands sticking to something wet on his cheek. He raises his hand and tucks his hair behind his ear, his fingertips coming away red.

_Blood. Not his._

He thought he’d gotten all of it when he scrubbed his skin raw at the medical tent earlier, but clearly he was wrong. His grip on the bottle tightens, knuckles white as he remembers the sound, the unforgettable gargle of blood, the way it was so  _warm_  against his cold skin, seeping through the cheap uniform he’d been provided. Another failure, another senseless death. 

It’s the stench that sticks with him, the rot, the burning flesh, the tang of iron that you could only smell if there’s a certain amount of blood, of which there always, _always_  was. That coupled with the echoing sound of marching feet, of yelling,  _screaming_ , the jarring cacophony of weapons reloading, being discharged. 

Every night he lay in his bunk, staring up at the thin canvas of his tent, unable to shut those memories out, and yet every morning he pulled himself up and did it all again, willingly watching people die among the chaos. 

His hands shake now, bile rising in his throat, and he hadn’t even noticed the figure sitting across the fire from him. He looks up, startled as his gaze settles upon the older man, dark eyes framed with wrinkles, a graying mustache thick on his upper lip. He knows this man, a general, he thinks. Ilya nods politely, and the man nods in return. 

“Doctor Devorak.” 

Ilya looks down at the bottle clutched in his hand, reaching out, offering it to him. The man shakes his head, a friendly smile on his lips. His eyes flicker to the vivid red upon Ilya’s fingertips, and Ilya flushes, eyes downcast. He wipes them on his clean trousers, regretting the move instantly, not knowing when he’ll get the chance to wash them again. 

He laughs lightly, the sound edging on the verge of being slightly manic. “Does it get easier?” He asks, his smile fading from his lips quickly as he looks out over the field once again, watching as a group of guards begin to take down some of the tents. Tents of people he didn’t save today. 

“No, it doesn’t,” the man begins, his voice deep, almost soothing. “That’ll help, though.” He nods at the bottle, chuckling, and Ilya can tell he’s done this too long, that he’s become desensitized to all of the horror.

Ilya smiles back, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, and he wonders if he’ll ever forget all of this, if he’ll ever laugh like that over a fire, surrounded by the stench of death. 

Maybe he’ll be okay. Maybe one day he’ll head back to the city, when he decides to stop trying to be someone he’s not. Maybe he’ll meet someone, someone who he can fall in love with, make a life with, an uncomplicated life. 

 _One day._  


	230. Asra x f!Apprentice 16.

She’s in the kitchen, wandering around barefoot, hips swaying as she hums quietly to herself. Asra lounges on a nearby pile of mismatched cushions, lazily flipping the pages of a worn tome that falls apart in his fingers.

He glances up at her, and it hits him immediately, that rush, that desperate  _desire_  to be touching her. It happens often now that she’s his again, the thought of all that time lost, all that time where he could have been taking her, making her cry his name. 

As if she’s heard his thoughts, she throws him a glance over her shoulder, sky-blue eyes glistening, an impish grin forming on perfect, pink lips.  

They meet in the middle, hastily tugging at one another, Asra pulling her flimsy robe loose with a simple pull, watching as it falls apart beautifully, revealing all that milky white,  _bare_  skin. He groans as she pushes him back, falling down upon the cushions in a heap, both breathless,  _panting_  as they claw at one another. 

Her robe slips off her shoulders, and he takes the bait as she presents her neck to him, sucking,  _biting_ , licking, just tasting her, leaving a trail of marks that would surely bruise by morning. She fumbles with his trousers, pulling him free, delicate fingers curling around his painfully hard length, her thumb circling the tip, spreading the wetness. 

He bucks into her hand, hips shamelessly stuttering, and he can wait no longer. He knows she’s ready, knows how  _wet_  she is for him, and he fills her up with one quick thrust, both of them gasping, adjusting to the blinding sensation. 

She runs her hand down the opening in his shirt, his muscles shifting beneath her fingertips as he moves within her. It’s too soon, but he can’t push away that intense,  _white-hot_  pleasure unfurling deep in the pit of his stomach. 

Her features are twisted into something that looks a lot like bliss, and her beauty is deadly as she whimpers, grabbing his face in her hands, pressing their foreheads together. She exhales sharply as he hitches her thigh around his hip, the new angle a revelation for both of them. 

“Asra. Yes… _there_ ,” she groans, and he feels her tighten around him, the heat blinding, that push of his own release bubbling as she comes, head thrown back in ecstasy, his name falling from her lips, sounding like a sin. 

A throaty,  _devilish_  laugh rumbles in her throat as he sinks his teeth into the flesh of her shoulder, muffling his moans against sweat-slick skin as he comes, filling her up, hips stuttering out their final thrusts. “ _Fuck_.” 

She wraps her legs around his hips, heels digging into the curve of his ass, urging him closer. He hisses, too sensitive to even think about moving as he comes down from his orgasm, but she’s relentless, insatiable. Greedy fingers tangle into white curls and she reels him in, running her tongue along his jaw.

“I’m not even close to being done with you.” 


	231. Alkar x Lucio 1.

Alkar comes for him tonight, just like he does every night. Seeping into his dreams like a poison, and he can’t stay away, doesn’t  _want_ to. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, just a game at first, a curiosity, but Alkar was never one to do anything in moderation.  

“ _Tomorrow_ ,” he whispers, his breath hot in the Count’s ear. He doesn’t touch him tonight, knowing it’ll drive him crazy, which is just how Alkar needs him.

He sinks back into the shadows, into the place where all lost, broken things hide, and he waits.

* * *

 

Alkar scoffs as the announcement comes to an end, pushing through the densely packed, over-excited crowd of townsfolk as they celebrate the news that they’ll be let into the palace for one night only. He slides past the guards, both of them too busy gossiping to even notice him. He’s not exactly stealthy, the heavy thud of his boots echoing throughout the empty courtyard as the people filter back onto the streets.

He may not be discreet, but he’s  _strong_ , and a wall covered in ivy and trellis presents itself as an easy entry point. He unties his hooded cloak and lets it fall to the floor, grabbing his dagger from it’s sheath and placing it between his teeth. He wonders how  _ridiculous_ he must look as he begins to climb, finding his footing carefully as the open window lures him in, a soft, ochre glow coming from within, kindly lighting his way

He climbs over the sill and lands on the marble floor with a thud, scarlet eyes quickly surveying his surroundings. It’s safe, clear, no guards in sight as he presses himself against the wall, sliding around the corner and pausing as the sound of footsteps drew near.

“Did you see how dirty most of them are?  _Awful_  creatures. Can we not order them to bathe before they enter my home? Christ.” 

Alkar can’t help but smile to himself, he knows that voice, a voice that has screamed his name, a voice that calls out to him.

“Yes, your highness.” 

“Good. Now… off you go.”

Alkar takes his chance and runs the second he hears a door click and creak, rounding the corner to see a glimpse of cream coattails disappearing into the room before him. He slips his dagger between the door and frame just in time, and before he can even think he’s pressed against a wall, the room dark, cold metal gripping his throat  _hard_.

“Tell me,  _witch_ ,” the voice snarls, “why should I not kill you where you stand?” 

Alkar laughs at the acid in his voice, and lets his dagger fall to the ground, raising his hands defensively, palms splayed midair. The sharpened tips of metal claws puncture his skin, and Alkar groans, sinking back against the wall to stop himself from falling, his knees weak from the welcome sting.

“Now where’s the fun in that?” He sighs, as cocky as he can muster, but he’s secretly falling apart. With a flare of his fingers he ignites all the candles in the room, the dull glow finally showing him exactly what he came here for.

Lucio, in the flesh. Real and solid and  _here_.

His silver eyes are wide, pale cheeks blooming a delicious, dusty rose under Alkar’s unwavering scrutiny. He furrows his brow and curls his lips back over a perfect row of too-white teeth, and Alkar idly thinks to himself how much he wants to ruin the carefully drawn-on khol that frames his eyes. He’s dizzy, Lucio’s presence just as intoxicating as he hoped it would be. He exudes power,  _danger_.

It’s an easy thing to break free from his grasp as Alkar notices him relaxing his grip, his unabashed curiosity evident as his eyes flicker over Alkar’s face, down his chest. He pushes off the wall, stepping close to the Count, bodies seamed tight. He reaches up, his hand drifting to twirl a stray lock of blonde hair around his fingers. “I can leave, if that’s what you want, or, you could pull my heart from my chest. That _is_  what you threatened you’d do if we ever met, is it not?”

Lucio’s nostrils flare, and Alkar smirks, knowing he currently has the upper hand, the Count too shocked, still processing the fact that the man who stalks his dreams is here in his bedroom,  _not_  a figment of his imagination. Alkar trails his finger down Lucio’s cheek, his skin cool to the touch, flawlessly smooth and milky while. “Or… we could do that thing. You know, the _thing_  that had you scre–”

Lucio swallows his words with a kiss, a heated, messy,  _desperate_ thing as they fall back against the wall. It catches Alkar off-guard, the thrill of those lips finally,  _finally_  upon his own like nothing else. He roughly grabs the lapels of Lucio’s jacket and tugs, the clasps popping open, clattering to the ground. Lucio growls, the noise rumbling deep in his chest, and he slams his hands to the wall either side of Alkar’s head, caging him in.

Alkar tugs his bottom lip between his teeth and _bites_ , tasting copper on the tip of his tongue. Lucio pulls away, hissing. “You’ll pay for that,  _witch_ ,” he seethes, but the way his lips curl up at the corners betrays the venom in his words.

Alkar swallows thickly, his throat suddenly very,  _very_  dry as Lucio reaches out, curls a claw beneath his chin, and leans in so close that there’s merely an inch between them. “Now,  _kneel_.”


	232. Julian x m!Apprentice 101.

City lights. 

 

* * *

 

Finn scrambles to the top of the hill, wiping sweat from his brow as he finally reaches Julian. He stands tall, silhouetted against the breathtaking view that spreads out before them. 

Julian turns with a smile, so beautiful, a beacon in the darkness as the moon shines down upon flawless, milky white skin, his fiery red hair a stark contrast as it whips around his face in the wind.  

“Oh,  _wow.”_

Julian reaches out, and Finn gratefully takes his hand, lets himself be pulled to stand by Julian’s side. Julian doesn’t let him go, lacing their fingers together as he curiously watches him take in the sight of the city low in the valley. “I have it on good authority that this is the most wonderful view you’ll find.” 

Finn wraps his arm around Julian’s waist, tucked beneath his coat, his free hand fisting the back of his shirt. His breath stutters, and he feels as though Julian has just handed him the world. 

Vesuvia.  _His_  city, the city he’s both loved and hatedwith a passion, but it was still his all the same. 

It was alive with lights, glittering like fallen stars, dark alleyways twisting like blackened snakes throughout the maze of crooked buildings. 

He could see the night market, the lights so much brighter there as it buzzes with life, and he smiles thinking about how many nights he’s enjoyed mindlessly wandering the stalls, eating freshly baked buns from the baker, Julian in tow, fingers entwined, just as they were now. 

“I love you,” he says quietly.

“And I you,” Julian whispers. 


	233. Finn x Alkar x Ezra x Omen 3.

Finn walks into the room to find Ezra yelling quite loudly at Alkar, who’s currently hunched over a shirtless Omen, dagger clutched menacingly in his hand. 

He stops in his tracks and clears his throat, hands firmly fixed on his hips as they all turn to look at him with wide, startled eyes. 

“What the  _shit_  are you doing?!”

Omen’s cheeks flush instantly, and he quickly folds his arms over his chest to cover his modesty. He looks guilty, so Finn starts with him. 

“Omen?” 

“ _Well_ , I tho–”

“He decided he wants a piercing because he feels left out, so of course this idiot”, he huffs, pointing at Alkar, “said he could do it. Then he got out his  _dagger,_ and… well, that’s when you walked in.” Ezra shrugged, exchanging a glare with Omen and taking a step back, opening the floor back up to Finn. 

“I see. Alkar, dagger.  _Now_.” 

Alkar curls his lip back over his teeth, snarling as he reluctantly stomps towards Finn, shoving his dagger into his waiting palm. “I wasn’t going to hurt him, I know what I’m doing.” 

Finn quirks his brow, a traitorous smirk twitching at the edge of his lips, unable to keep a straight face. “Sometimes I wonder exactly  _how_  you’re all still alive.” 


	234. Finn x Ezra 3.

 

He’s mesmerized, entranced as he watches him. The way he moves is graceful, making the violent act into a dance as his sword cuts through the air.

Sweat beads on Finn’s back as the sun beats down on them, his shirt soaked through as he shrugs it off his shoulders, letting it fall to the ground as he straightens his stance, rounding his broad shoulders. He tightens his grip around the hilt, arms tense as Ezra gets in position in front of him.

An impish grin spreads across his too-handsome face, emerald eyes sparkling, and Finn knows he’s screwed. Give him a dagger and he’s deadly, or even just his fists, but a sword? Not a chance.

Ezra charges, his blade illuminating as he draws it back, raising it high and bringing it down hard against Finn’s sad practice blade. The clang of steel is thrilling, sparks flying as he parries Ezra’s relentless attacks.

Ezra moves with a fascinating flourish, assured in every single movement he makes, maybe even getting a little cocky as his grin widens. Finn is managing to counter his blows for now, spinning and ducking as he comes at him again and again.

Sweat is pouring down his face, his chest, his skin slick, soaked. The hungry way in which Ezra stares at him doesn’t go unnoticed, and he takes advantage of the little drop in concentration, flexing as he dodges, causing Ezra to falter, Finn’s blade coming to rest a mere inch from his throat. “And… you’re dead. Distracted, are we?”

Ezra rolls his eyes, pushes his arm away. “You’re doing that on purpose.” His eyes drop from his face, down, down his chest, before he looks back up, gold locking with green. “Stop it.”

Finn swings the sword around and shrugs. “It’s hot, I can’t do much about the weather now, can I?”

Ezra growls, moving suddenly, quick like a cat as he sweeps his foot under Finn’s leg, sending him barreling back towards the ground. Before Finn can even wonder about how he ended up pressed flat against cold cobblestones, Ezra is on him, his legs bracketing his hips, the tip of his sword pressed to the point where Finn’s heart is about to burst from the cage of his ribs. “Now who’s dead?”

“Cheat.”

“How is that cheating? You’re the one who removed your clothing and began… well, doing that,” Ezra huffs, letting his sword clatter to the ground.

Finn raises his hands defensively, quirking his brow, a shit-eating grin crossing his lips. “Fine, I cheated. I yield.”

Ezra beams, grabbing his wrists and pinning them to the ground above his head. “Ass.”

He leans in, licking his lips instinctively as Finn shifts beneath him. A little further, and their noses brush, Finn tugging his bottom lip between his teeth as he impatiently waits for Ezra to close the gap between them.

His cheeks flush, rosy pink on russet skin as he surges forward, the kiss teasing, fast. Finn whines as Ezra pulls away, splaying his palms upon his sweaty chest before standing quickly, brushing the dust off his trousers.

Finn’s heart hammers in his chest, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he’s left wanting, Ezra throwing him a playful, seductive glance over his shoulder as he moves to disappear into the shop. “Well, are you coming?”

Finn scrambles to his feet, and he’s never moved faster


	235. Asra x Julian 31.

Prompt - "Could be worse." 

* * *

 

Julian hears the unmistakable hum of Asra’s magic, the door glowing lightly before it creaks open. He’s disheveled, hair mussed, robe hanging off one shoulder as he yawns, rubbing sleepy eyes.

“Ilya?” He blinks, taking him in, checking him over. Because why  _would_ Julian be turning up on his doorstep in the middle of the night?

“What can I help you with?”

“Sorry, I… I just…,” he stops himself, feeling like an utter fool. “It’s nothing, I shouldn’t have… I’ll um, go.” He takes a step back off the stoop, but Asra reaches out, fingers curling around his wrist, gripping him tight.

“Wait.” Julian stops dead in his tracks. “It’s late, just… come inside.”

Julian bites his lip, his eyes focused on that point of contact, pulse protesting against the warm press of Asra’s fingertips. He clears his throat, and lets himself be pulled inside.

The shop is as welcoming as ever, the lingering smell of lavender, the soft candlelight flickering in the kitchen. It’s been a week since Asra broke off their little  _thing_ , and Julian felt pathetic for crawling to his door, seeking comfort, company.

Asra closes the door and walks past him, heading up the stairs.

“I… Asra?”

Asra sighs loudly, continuing his ascent. “Ilya, I’m going to bed. Join me if you wish.”

Julian falters, then breaks, rushing up the stairs a little too keenly. Asra is already curled up beneath the sheets, and Julian feels a pang deep in his chest, that ache that blooms whenever the white haired witch is near. He wants it to go away, would do  _anything_ for it to go away.

He removes his coat and drapes it over a small stool before he sits on the edge of the bed, his back to Asra as he stares at the mirror that’s propped up against the wall, scarves and gold necklaces draped across the frame. He smiles, feeling better already, just from the familiarity of it all, the warmth of the bedroom, the soft sheets. It’s the closest thing to home he’d had in a long time.

“Ilya, please, lay down. Go to sleep,” Asra groans, rolling onto his side, his arm tucked beneath his head as he gazes up at Julian with those vivid, violet eyes.

Julian lays down stiffly on his side of the bed, or what  _used_ to be, anyway. He stars up into the darkness, squinting to make out the cracks in the ceiling that he’d spent many a night counting, unable to sleep even with Asra snoring lightly against his chest.

The mattress shifts, and Asra reaches out, fingertips lightly touching his arm. “I’d like to think we can still be friends, Ilya,” he whispers, voice soft, sincere.

Julian takes a deep breath and turns to face him, suddenly realising how close he truly was. He swallows thickly, willing his voice to come out steady. “I’d like that, if that’s what you want.”

Asra pushes a lock of auburn curls behind his ear, fingertips lingering upon his cheek. “Could be worse,” he grins, retracting his touch but keeping his hand close, splayed upon his pillow.

He’s so beautiful, and Julian would take what he was given, however little that may be. He forces a smile, eyes flickering over those otherworldly features, taking him in, still wondering if he’s  _real_.

“My door is always open for you, Ilya,” he nods, nuzzling into the downy pillow, a little yawn escaping perfect lips. He sighs contently, closing his eyes, white lashes kissing lightly flushed, tawny cheeks.

Strange, how much calmer he feels already, the pain that had dragged him here in the first place fading away.

He wakes up from the best nights sleep he’s had in what feels like an age, startled to find Asra’s legs tangled with his own, his hand draped over his waist. He carefully untangles himself, sliding out from beneath the sheets quietly.

He stands, pulling on his coat and tires to make his hair at least slightly presentable. He pauses at the door, gaze lingering upon him, relishing in the softness, in how peaceful he looks. He smiles, closing the door behind him, thinking how it’s better to have some of him, rather than nothing at all.

 

 

 


	236. Julian x m!Apprentice 102.

Prompt - "Say it."

* * *

 

 

Julian can feel his gaze lingering on him. He catches his eye and they both smile.

It’s early evening, the sun lingering upon the horizon. They retired early, too exhausted to do much of anything other than sliding beneath clean sheets.

Finn reaches over, pushes his messy hair back from his face. His touch is like fire, just like him. It takes only a glance, a glimmer in those golden eyes to have Julian edging closer, invading his side of the bed.

Finn trails a finger down his forehead, tracing the ridge of his nose, over his lips. Julian’s eyes flutter closed at the feeling, and he leans into Finn’s touch as his palm comes to rest against his cheek.

“I wish you knew how beautiful you are.”

He’s said it before, many times, and each time Julian smiles, shakes his head in disagreement, so predictable. But he does feel beautiful now, thanks to him, his kind words, his calming presence, his love.

He thought himself unworthy before, but revelations never hurt anyone, he supposed.

“Will you say it for me?” Finn whispers, offering him a lazy grin. His thumb brushes over Julian’s lips once more and he leans in, pressing their mouths together, his kiss as sweet the words he spills.   
  
They break apart, foreheads pressed together, lips parted. Finn’s hand comes to rest upon Julian’s thigh, their gazes locking, silver and gold.

Julian smiles, wets his lips. “Beautiful.”


	237. Julian x m!Apprentice 103.

It takes him by surprise when it first happens, the lightest brush of fingertips sending him reeling, too-long limbs flailing to be rid of the touch that Finn had hoped would elicit a very different reaction.

Finn has learnt to avoid it, that silk-soft spot of milky white skin that stretches over his ribs. It’s harder than you’d think, especially silly when every inch of him is so tempting.

He stretches in the mornings, long arms reaching high, skin bare and sleep-warm, and Finn wants to run a digit over the ridges, trace each curve, especially when he spots a cluster of freckles that he’s yet to explore.

Julian looks at him as he relaxes, sinking back down against the pillow, arms behind his head as if he was trying his very hardest to kill Finn. He quirks an inquisitive eyebrow at his hungry golden gaze, and before he can speak, Finn is straddling his hips, gathering Julian’s wrists in one big palm above his head.

He starts by running a single digit over his collarbone, then down the centre of his chest, down his stomach between tensed muscles, through that sinful sliver of coarse, auburn hair that dips beneath the hem of his pants, bracketed by perfect, arching hipbones.

Julian shudders beneath him, lips parted, breath labored, but Finn strays from the path he was hoping he’d take. Instead of tugging that pesky fabric aside, curling deft fingers around that ache that has bloomed between his thighs, he trails back up, grip on his wrists tightening, and Julian knows he’s  _screwed_.

Finn’s reward for his treachery is Julian’s pealing laughter, louder and more delightful than ever, his cheeks blooming the deepest rose as he tries to wriggle free from Finn’s unrelenting hold. Finn yields, eventually, ghosting his fingertips over that delicious spot one more time, riding the wonderful buck of Julian’s hips as he releases him.

Julian rolls him, pins him against the mattress and punishes him with a crushing kiss, both of them breathless, giddy as Julian exacts his revenge, trying his hardest to crack the secrets of where Finnegan Lightwood’s weak spot is hidden.


	238. Omen x Ezra 1.

Ezra walks down the stairs to the sound of a rather pathetic series of groans, smiling to himself as he smells the unmistakable stench of something burning. Omen had promised him breakfast, and it didn’t seem to be going according to plan.

He turned the corner, finding him leaning on the kitchen counter, head in his hands, fingers tugging at messy hair. His head snapped up when he registered Ezra’s presence, and a delightful flush blossomed upon his cheeks, spreading to the tips of his ears.

“Don’t look! I messed up,” he sighed, scrambling to cover whatever abomination he’d concocted with flailing arms.

Ezra’s smile grew wider as he stepped around the worktop to join him, carefully prying his arms from the plate of food. Pancakes, questionable in shape, size, and consistency, but they were unmistakably  _supposed_  to be pancakes. “Mustard?” He teased, grabbing Omen by the arm as he groaned and tried to escape.

“No, no mustard. I did promise to stop that.”

He looked utterly defeated, hair haphazardly sticking up in all directions where it had fallen from its ponytail, no doubt due to him running his hands through it. His cheeks were dusted with flour, and his nose tipped with what looked like strawberry jam. Ezra attempted to put his hair back in place, but it was a lost cause.

“Thank you for trying, you’re definitely getting better!” He beamed, grabbing a fork and taking a deep breath as he cut off a little corner of the ‘pancake’. Omen inhaled sharply, holding his breath as Ezra brought the bite up to his lips. He chewed, maybe a little longer than he would if it wasn’t quite so… sticky, nodding and humming his approval as he swallowed.

“Oh! It’s not that bad, actually. Please don’t worry about it so much.”

Omen frowned, his nose crinkled. “Are you just saying that?”

Ezra shakes his head, cupping Omen’s face in his hands, bushing his thumbs over his flour-covered cheekbones. “No, I mean it. Thank you.”

Omen smiles, wide and beautiful as Ezra leans in, kissing the tip of his nose. “Hmm it is jam, then,” he winks, closing the gap between them, losing himself in the kiss, feeling Omen smile against his lips.

His hands fall to Omen’s hips, slowly moving him back so that he’s leaning against the counter.

“What are you up to,” Omen breaths, voice pitched low, raspy.

“Well, taking instruction from your apron, of course,” Ezra shrugs.

Omen looks down and laughs as Ezra’s lips find his neck.

_Kiss The Cook._


	239. Asra x f!Apprentice 17.

“Please… won’t you stay?”

* * *

 

She feels like she’s spent her whole life losing, failing. Her parents, her memories, now him.

Each loss hurts more than the one that came before, but she carries them proudly, with grace. The hurt feeds her, makes her feel when she now feels so numb, desensitised.

She sits on the bed, the dark kohl that she lines her pretty blue eyes with smudged like charcoal down her cheeks. She’s a sorry sight, but still the most beautiful thing he’s laid eyes on.

Asra kneels, brushes warm fingertips over her cheekbones. Dull candlelight flickers on her face, and he should be terrified by that look she’s giving him, but all he’s afraid of is losing her.

She used to be so bright, but her light had faded, and it was all his fault. He wanted to tell her why he has to leave again, that he’s trying to fix this mess, fix  _her_ , but she wouldn’t understand.

He tugs at her clasped hands where they rest in her lap, lacing their fingers together. He squeezes, trying to meet her gaze, but she closes her eyes, long, dark lashes wet with old tears.

He brushes a stray hair behind her ear, touch lingering upon her cheek, down her jaw, and she leans into it without realising, drawn to him like a magnet.

“Please,” he whispers. “Please say something, I can’t bear it.”

He waits, and she doesn’t falter. She’s more stubborn than a child, and he wants to smile, to wrap her up and bury his face in her neck, breathe her in, but it would be an insult. Instead, he stands, their clasped hands breaking apart, her arm falling limp at her side.

He turns, hesitates at the door. A final glance before his tears begin to fall, before she sees. His hat is on, his coat, his bag, and he whispers the quietest, “ _I love you_.”

She hears his footsteps grow lighter as he walks down the stairs, holding her knees to her chest, waits until the door slams.

“Stay.  _Please_ don’t go.”


	240. Julian x m!Apprentice 104.

Prompt - Sending their child to school for the first time. 

 

* * *

 

“I can’t do this.”

“Yes you can,” Finn chuckled, but inside he was dying, his heart breaking at the thought of not having her home all day, of not playing with her in the garden at lunchtime, or curling up with a book ready to lull her into a nap in the afternoon.

Isabella looked up at Julian curiously, before staring back at Finn, those huge eyes sparkling with concern. “Is Papa okay, Daddy?”

Finn took her hand, squeezing once as he looked over at Julian, widening his gaze in warning. Julian brushed a stray tear from his cheek with a casual swipe of his hand, disguising it by tucking an auburn curl behind his ear, registering that the little girl was watching him intently.

Julian shook it off and crouched down, too tall for it to look comfortable as he wrapped her up in a crushing, lingering hug. “I’m fine, I’ll just miss you, that’s all.”

She crinkled her nose, a look of bemusement on her pretty face. She reached out and placed a hand upon his cheek, patting it lightly. “I’ll be home later, Papa. You don’t need to be so sad.”

Finn covered his mouth with his hand in a poor attempt at stifling the undignified giggle that escaped his lips. As sad as he was, he did rather enjoy seeing Julian get schooled by their five year old.

Julian sighed, smiling softly, just as besotted with her as the first time they laid eyes on her, and leaned in to place a kiss to the top of her nose. “Be safe, little one.”

Finn wrapped his arm around Julian’s waist, tugging him close as they watched her skip off into the school. She didn’t seem phased, their precocious daughter more interested in getting inside to meet new friends and read books.

At the last moment, she paused, and they both inhaled sharply, breaths held until she turned, raised a small hand into the air and waved enthusiastically enough that her whole body swayed, long, raven ringlets swinging about her shoulders.

They waved back, holding each other tightly, hiding their tears with laughter.

“Now, only six hours to kill,” Finn groaned, Julian resting his head upon his shoulder and sighing dramatically.

“I miss her already.”

“Me too.”


	241. Finn x Omen 6.

Omen seems different tonight, shy, closed-off, and Finn finds it hard to ignore. Gone are the bright, beaming smiles he’s become accustomed to, replaced by a perpetual frown as Finn pushes the shop door open. Omen trails behind him quietly, their fingers entwined, but he’s not holding on as tightly as he used to.

Dread blooms in the pit of Finn’s stomach. They’ve been on more than a few dates now, and he’s smitten,  _totally_  besotted with him, but… something’s missing. Has he done something wrong? Does Omen just not  _like_  him anymore?

Finn takes a deep breath and pulls him close, watches his reaction. He leans in, seemingly grateful for the contact, but as Finn cups a hand to his jaw and bends down, going in for a kiss, Omen flinches, eyes closed.

Finn’s heart sinks, and he respectfully takes a step back, breaking his hold on him. “Omen? You would tell me if there’s something wrong, wouldn’t you? I mean, I would understand if you weren’t interested anymore, I ju–”

“No!” Omen shouts, his voice breaking as he takes a step forward, reaching out for Finn but thinking better of it, lowering his hand, fist clenched by his side. “ _No_. I am interested,  _god_ , that’s not it, I promise. I just…” he plays with a non-existent thread on the hem of his shirt. “I don’t feel like I’m good enough for you. This curse it… I don’t  _deserve_  you like this.”

He makes a flippant gesture, clearly implying that his current state isn’t satisfactory, that Finn would be mad to want him like that. Finn stands silent, dumbfounded. It hadn’t even crossed his mind, he’d only ever seen Omen like this, how he is right now, and as far as he’s concerned, he’s perfect.

He reaches out, takes his hand, and in a bold move he guides him upstairs.

Omen follows willingly, still not meeting his gaze as Finn urges him to sit on the end of the bed. Finn kneels before him and gazes up at him through long lashes, the softest, most reassuring smile he can muster crossing his lips. “Can I touch you? I want to show you that… that I  _want_ you. In any shape, or any form, I want you.”

Omen flushes, his cheeks painted the most delightful shade of dusky pink. He nods, melting as Finn catches his lips in a hungry kiss, pushing a hand into his hair, silk-soft chestnut strands snarling about his fingertips.

Finn splays a palm upon his chest, pushing him down against the mattress. “Tell me to stop if you want me to, okay?”

Omen nods again, apparently speechless as Finn pushes his hand up beneath the hem of his shirt slowly, painfully so. Finn feels him tense, then relax beneath his fingertips, his muscles twitching under milky skin.

The softest, breathy groan falls from Omen’s kiss-reddened lips as Finn presses a kiss to his now-exposed chest, and he can feel his heart thrumming furiously against his lips as he kisses a trail down,  _down_  his stomach, pausing at the waistband of his trousers. “Omen,” Finn purrs, the effort of stopping himself from ravishing him with fervor overwhelming. “You’re so beautiful, do you know that?” 

Omen’s breathing is labored, his chest heaving, eyes hooded and blown-black as he stares him down, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth as Finn tugs at his trousers, pulling them down slowly. He lifts his hips without questions, helping Finn remove that pesky scrap of fabric that separates them, his legs parting shamelessly when he settles.

“I’ve been enthralled with you since the first time I laid eyes on you. I want you exactly as you are, no matter what. I’d like any version of you, Omen.”

He curls long, deft fingers around his length, stroking him laboriously, carefully. Omen inhales sharply as Finn presses his lips to the crown of his cock, golden eyes firmly fixed upon his face, watching that flush spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. “ _Finn_ …”

Finn grins, pressing his cheek against his inner thigh. “You can touch me, you know.” He returns to the task in hand, swirling his tongue around the tip before sinking down, taking him in inch by perfect inch until he’s swallowed him down to the root.

Omen grinds his hips, sinful sounds rumbling deep in his throat, taking Finn’s suggestion and rolling with it as he winds his fingers in raven locks, tugging gently. The answering growl that elicits from Finn rocks Omen to his core, a full-body shudder rolling over him as Finn pushes him closer to the edge with every hot,  _wet_ swipe of his tongue.

Finn grabs Omen’s hand, fingers entwined, Omen  _squeezing_  tight as he comes, Finn gratefully riding out the buck of his hips as he greedily swallows everything he give him, pulling away with a sinful  _pop._ He hums, lips glistening as he quickly climbs over him, covering him.

Finn catches his lips in a depraved kiss, Omen driven mad by the taste of himself on his tongue, his hands gripping Finn’s shirt, pushing it apart to drag blunt nails down his chest. Finn shamelessly grinds his hips, tugs Omen’s bottom lip between his teeth. “ _God_ , you have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

A smirk plays at the edges of Omen’s lips, his hand reaching up to cradle the back of Finn’s skull, reeling him in until their noses are brushing. “No, but I’m starting to get the picture. Thank you.”


	242. Julian xm!Apprentice 105.

Oh that sucks, I’m sorry! Cheer up though, anyone who does that clearly isn’t worth your time. 

We’ll go for happy. 

* * *

Julian has always risen before the sun, watching the sky change from black, to purple, to orange, then blue. The gauzy curtains flutter, caught on a breeze as the fresh, morning air filters into the bedroom. 

He takes a deep breath, filling his lungs with it as he stretches, toes curling against clean,  _warm_ sheets. He turns onto his side, already smiling before he’s even looked at Finn, his face so peaceful, eyelids dancing in his dreams. 

He wonders if he dreams about him. He hopes so. 

Julian tries to resist, but he’s too tempting, all that bare, sun-warmed skin just begging to be caressed. He reaches out, a fingertip trailing over his shoulder, connecting the freckles, mapping them like constellations. He finds a scar he’s never noticed before, deciding that it’s a sin that he doesn’t know every inch of him by heart. 

Finn doesn’t stir, not an inch, even as his hand runs a ghosting touch down his spine. Finn could sleep through the house being on fire, he’s pretty sure of it. He smiles at that errant thought, saving it for later so he can tease him, watch the soft crinkle of the skin around his eyes as he smiles. 

He’s never felt so at peace, so safe. He’s long lead a life of being scared, alert, waiting to be captured or killed, but now,  _now_  he’s whole. He’s found his place, his home. 

He decides he’s had enough, edging close, bodies seamed tight as he leans in and places his head upon Finn’s pillow, their noses brushing. Julian feels a laugh bubbling in his chest as a sleepy smile crosses Finn’s lips. 

“Faker.” 

Finn’s eyes flutter open, golden and bright and  _beautiful_  as they meet Julian’s silver. “Morning handsome. Have you been watching me sleep again?” 

Julian hums, tracing the sharp line of Finn’s jaw, feeling the slightest scratch of stubble against his fingertip. “Hmm, maybe.” 

Finn curls like a cat, his back arched into a graceful bow, bones clicking into their rightful place. Finn presses a quick kiss to Julian’s nose, nuzzling back against his pillow. “Five more minutes. Come here.” 

He opens his arms, luring him into the warm crook of his neck, wrapping him up. It’s simple, the comfort he provides, but Julian craves it all the same. 

Finn’s cheek is warm against his forehead, his hands in messy, auburn curls, fingertips scratching his scalp. His eyes flutter closed, and Julian smiles, perplexed that he can fall asleep so quickly. 

But, as Finn’s arms tighten around him, Julian feels sleep tug at him, it’s warm embrace inviting,  _peaceful_ , and he succumbs to it with little hesitation. 


	243. Alkar x Lucio 2.

Alkar lingers in the shadows, watching him sleep, listening intently to the harsh rattle of his chest with each laboured breath. He’s sleeping, but it’s fitful, and he tosses and turns, a slick sheen covering deathly pale skin.

He’s tortured himself enough for tonight, he thinks, and he turns to unhook the latch on the window.

“Leaving so soon?”

The voice stops him in his tracks, it’s…  _different_ , rougher, no trace of that cockiness the Count usually exuded. Alkar dropped his hand, clenching his fist at his side.

He should leave, nothing good will come of this, but Alkar was always one to wallow in his own agony, so he took a step towards the bed. The dull light that flickered from a solitary candle upon the nightstand illuminated his face, and Lucio chuckled, the sound breaking as it turned into an aggressive, hacking cough.

Alkar dug his fingernails into his palm  _hard,_ leaving angry crescent moon indents upon his skin. Anything to stop himself reaching out, from helping him.

Lucio sat up, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. It came away red.

Alkar swallowed thickly as Lucio crooked a bony finger at him. “Come closer.”

He grit his teeth as Lucio fisted his shirt, reeling him in with a weak tug, their chests seamed tight. “Pathetic, aren’t you?” He scoffed, those once flawless silver eyes now marred a murky red, his sclera vivid, terrifying. “You just can’t stay away. I’m all you’ve got, aren’t I,  _witch_.”

Alkar held his breath as Lucio tilted his head, seemingly presenting his lips for a kiss. And,  _god_ , he wanted to. He wanted to seam their mouths together, to press him hard against that mattress, tear away his expensive clothes until they were tatters upon the floor.

He’d done it before, too many times to count, his brain swimming, knowing he wasn’t going to have this for much longer, not by the state of him, he looked… dead. He looked  _dead_.

“Nothing to say? This is killing you, I can tell,” Lucio sneered, the venom in his voice still present, biting. “You must hate this,  _hate_  the fact that something other than your hands are choking me like this.”

“Lucio…”

“ _No,”_ he interrupted, lips curled back over his teeth. “Say it. Say it’s killing you.”

Alkar closed his eyes and turned his head away. He pried Lucio’s pathetic grip from his shirt and stepped backwards, almost stumbling.

He quickly fumbled for the latch again, stepping up onto the windowsill, ready to climb down the vines. “It’s killing me,” he whispered. “I wanted to be the one to watch you take your last breath, to steal it from you.”

Lucio barked another painful laugh. “You don’t have the guts.”

With that, Alkar dropped down, clutching the trellis, finding his footing, the cold wind hitting tear-streaked cheeks.

_I love you, I love you, I hate you._


	244. Asra x Julian 32.

Prompt - "Tell me what to do." 

* * *

 

 

Asra was getting rather fond of waking up next to a warm body, even if the doctor did run a little colder than what he was used to.

He woke with a stretch, arms raised high, toes pointed. Julian was awake, as he always seemed to be, and he had a certain curious look in his pretty silver eyes.

“Good morning Ilya.”

“Good morning,” he sighed, breathy, dreamy. He worried his bottom lip between his teeth, not-so-subtlety edging closer, cold feet pressing against Asra’s calves.

He was greedily taking Asra in, gaze dropping to where the sheets pooled indecently around his bare waist, lower still to where the lightest dusting of white hair dipped between his arching hipbones, down,  _down…_

“Can I help you with something?” Asra smirked, relishing in the delicious blush that bloomed upon pale cheeks.

“Tell me what to do. Anything, I’m yours,” Julian whispered, his voice breaking as he reached out, running a long, elegant finger down the centre of Asra’s lean chest, down until he tugged at the sheets, a satisfied, yet desperate grin crossing his lips when he laid eyes on Asra’s length, thick and aching between his legs.

Asra gave him a little nod, a nod that Julian knew was permission to touch, to take. Julian was over him in a second, covering him, pressing his lips to Asra’s in a crushing, messy kiss, all tongue and teeth.

When they broke apart Asra was panting, lacing his fingers into messy auburn curls and  _pushing_ , urging Julian down until his face was pressed between his thighs.

He tugged  _hard_  as Julian took him into his mouth. Moving his head with his hands, pushing and pulling until Julian had settled into a perfect rhythm, coaxing him closer to the edge with every wet glide.

“Such a good boy, Ilya,” Asra purred, fingers gripping the sheets, back arching off the bed in a sinuous bow, pushing himself further down Julian’s throat, the doctor not faltering for a second, simply humming, grateful for the way Asra filled him up.

Julian gripped his hips in an attempt to still him, but Asra swatted them away, wagging his finger in warning. “Ah, ah, keep going. You’re taking it so well.”

Julian smiled around him, hollowing his cheeks, making Asra forget his name as violet eyes rolled back in his head, that hot,  _hot_  pressure blossoming deep in his gut as he finally came with a choked-off cry, his fingers back in Julian’s hair, pulling hard,  _harder_.

Julian finally broke away, releasing him, looking utterly disheveled and depraved as he locked his glistening lips, crawling back up Asra’s sated body to give him a taste.


	245. Finn x Alkar x Ezra x Omen 4.

It’s frantic,  _chaotic_  as terrified guests tear through the palace corridors desperately looking for an escape.

 _Cowards_.

Alkar reaches the bedroom and stands dumbstruck, watching thick black smoke billow from the crack underneath the door.

He covers his mouth, but that won’t buy him much time, his lungs are already protesting against each suffocating breath he takes. He reaches for the handle, but it’s scorching, burns his skin.

He clenches his teeth, stepping back with a frustrated growl, listening to the screams that echo inside the inferno, thinking to himself how they simply  _cannot_  be human.

The thought of it being him _, Lucio,_ making those noises turns his stomach, makes him goddamn sick.

He yells his name until his throat is raw,  _painful,_ and herelents as hehammers clenched fists against the crackling wooden door until his knuckles are bloody, but something is stopping him getting in. He splays him palm to the sizzling frame, closes his eyes and feels an all-too familiar hum of magic.

Of  _course_  it’s magic.

The spine-chilling screams grow louder in a haunting, blood-curdling crescendo until they simply just…  _stop._

The door swings open carefully, no hand on the other side pulling it. Whatever spell this is was purposeful, and it’s job was complete.

Alkar drops to his knees, the marble harsh and hot against his palms as he falls forward, his vision blurred as he slowly slides out of consciousness.

He sees a shock of red hair, and a bed filled only with ashes.

Then, everything goes black.

~ ~ ~

Alkar wakes up gasping, clawing at his throat, sure he can taste sulphur thick on his tongue, that unforgettable stench of smoke and charred flesh in his nostrils, his skin slick with sweat.

He shakes it off, knowing it’s a phantom feeling, his traitor body toying with him, and not for the first time.

He kicks away the sheets and moves to sit at the edge of the bed. He growls, swiping away the hot, unwelcome tears that streak his cheeks, only for them to be swiftly replaced with fresh ones.

A warm hand reaches out, touches him,  _grounds_  him. The mattress creaks and shifts, and a familiar, comforting presence settles beside him. “Alkar… hey, it’s okay.”

Finn ignites the candle that sits on the nightstand with a simple click of his fingers, the flame making Alkar flinch, but Finn catches him, wraps him up, shows him he’s safe, his big hand cupping his face, lips kissing away his tears.

He lets him sob against his chest until he’s all cried out, fingers stroking through his messy hair, tracing his jaw, tugging at his chin, those enchanting golden eyes so  _bright_  in the darkness they might just be glowing.

Alkar closes his eyes, then feels two more sets of comforting hands covering him. Ezra’s soft hair tickling his shoulder, Omen’s lips pressing against his temple, his cheek, his jaw.

The embrace is more than he deserves, but it heals.

They make him forget. Not with grand gestures, nor fancy declarations, but with something so simple it almost makes him laugh.

He is  _loved_.


	246. Julian x m!Apprentice 106.

Prompt - "Run like your life depends on it, because it does."

* * *

 

 

“Hey, let’s get out of here,” Finn whispered, squeezing Julian’s thigh beneath the table, the scent of whiskey warm on his breath. He was clearly bored of the over-packed Raven, and Julian was thoroughly intrigued with the way his eyes were taking him in. He knew that look. 

Julian nodded eagerly, catching his bottom lip between his teeth, a delicate flush painting his cheeks as Finn took his hand and led him from the booth, pushing his way through the rowdy crowd. 

The fresh air hit them, and they barely made it a few measly steps before Finn dragged him into the nearest alley, Finn catching him by the waist and pushing him back against the cold, stone wall. Julian let out a breathless groan as the bricks bit into his spine, Finn crushing their lips together, digging fingers into auburn curls as he arched against him. 

The force of it lifted Julian from the ground for a second, and he was dizzy, swept away as he fisted Finn’s shirt, urging him closer. Julian was caught alight, and he lost all rational thought as Finn pressed all that muscle against him with a slow drag of his hips. He slammed his head back against the wall as Finn’s lips kissed a gloriously messy trail down the sharp column of his throat, before his mouth was back upon his own, the kiss scalding hot, but quickly melting into a series of careful licks and breathless smiles.

“ _Julian_ ,” he purred, running his nose along his jaw, soothing his hand over his shoulder, pushing aside the flimsy fabric of his shirt to trace his collarbone with a curious fingertip, their lips but a breath away, otherworldly golden eyes glowing in the moonlight. Then, his mouth twisted into a mischievous smirk; a warning. “If you want me, then you better run like your life depends on it.” 

Julian was infuriatingly turned on and turned around, fully expecting Finn to ravish him any second in this dank, shadow-ridden alleyway, so, before his brain had re-entered his body, Finn turned on his heel and ran.

Julian cursed loudly, struggling to compose himself as he pushed off the wall. He skidded around the corner, boots sliding on uneven cobblestones, uncaring that a group of onlookers who were spilled out of The Raven were giving him curious glances as he gave chase.  

The shop wasn’t far, and they sprinted through the slowly emptying Vesuvian streets, Julian smiling to himself as he heard Finn’s joyful laughter echoing in the distance. He was all-too used to running, and he even slowed his pace slightly so he didn’t catch up with Finn, wanting the game to last, knowing that the prize would be even more rewarding if he let his witch win. 

He watched Finn fling his palm out in front of him as he reached the door, his ward shimmering away as he barged inside. 

As Julian stepped over the threshold, the door slammed shut, Finn grabbing him by the wrist and shoving him back against it. Both of their hearts hammering double-time in their heaving chests, anticipation bubbling and building between them as Finn yanked him close, their lips meeting. 

It didn’t take them long to be tearing at each others clothes, the kiss clumsy, all tongue and teeth as they fumbled with buttons and zips, unwanted fabric pooling at their feet. Julian melted against Finn, wound his arms around his neck as he surrendered willingly,  _desperate_  to find out what he had planned. 

Finn smirked, a low growl rumbling in his throat as Julian canted his hips forward, the friction he caused sending a shudder rolling down his spine. “I think I’m ready to  _claim_  my prize,” he murmured, mouth pressed against the hollow of his throat, tongue flicking out to taste sweat-slick skin.

Julian whimpered, a pathetic sound. He wanted Finn to touch him, kiss him,  _fuck_ him - right here if he so pleased. Anything, anything,  _anything_. 

Finn slid his hand between Julian’s thighs, cupping him through the last remaining scrap of fabric that parted them. 

Then, he was gone, taking off up the stairs in all his naked glory. 

“Catch me if you can!” 

Julian stood dumbfounded, debauched and  _aching_  against the door. “ _Ass_.” 


	247. Julian x m!Apprentice 107.

Julian huffed loudly as Finn tried to push himself up off the mattress, his still-heavy and uncooperative limbs failing him as he flopped back down against the pillow with a frustrated growl. 

“ _Stop_  that,” Julian warned, brow furrowed as he splayed his palm upon Finn’s  stomach, pressing lightly where the blade had sunk into him like butter. 

He’d stitched him together quite sufficiently with what little supplies he managed to scrape together, and Finn was impressed, yet still  _annoyed_  by how strict he was being with his bedrest orders

Long, delicate fingers gently stroked along the puckered scar, and Finn suddenly forgot just how badly it had hurt, a smile twitching at the corner of his lips. 

He reached for Julian’s free hand, lacing their fingers together, only for Julian to snatch his away, leaning over him, auburn curls tumbling forward and tickling Finn’s forehead. His lips were moving, but Finn was finding it very hard to concentrate.

“… stupid,  _stubborn_  fool. You could have been killed, what good are you to me if you’re dead?”   

“Hmmmm?” Finn hummed, dazed, grinning like an idiot as he gazed up into that pretty silver eye. 

Julian scoffed, tearing a strip of dressing from it’s roll and placing it over the wound, pressing just shy of too-hard as he stuck it down with tape. Finn hissed through clenched teeth, a sudden bite of pain shooting through his side, fingers tangling in the sheets. “Ow.”

“Ow? I’ll give you ‘ _ow_ ’! Now,  _sleep_. You have enough painkillers in your system to floor a horse, and yet you’re still bloody awake.”

Finn grumbled, giving Julian a look, the doctor immediately recognizing it and rolling his eyes in response. “I’m not cuddling you, you need rest.” 

“Please? I’m sick, you’re a doctor. Prescribe me a warm embrace and be done with it.” 

Julian covered a quick laugh with a (not at all) subtle cough, his face serious once again. “You’re  _not_  sick, nor are you gravely wounded… anymore.”

Finn pouted, slowly turning onto his side with a grimace, jaw clenched as he tried to settle into a comfortable position, but it was futile. 

Julian sighed loudly as he watched him struggle, and the mattress shifted, a pair of long arms winding around Finn’s waist, Julian nuzzling his nose against the soft hairs at the nape of his neck, placing a quick kiss there. “Shut up and go to sleep.”  

“Thank you,” Finn grinned, content, and just a _little_ delirious as he drifted off into a dreamless, painless sleep in the arms of the best doctor in town. 


	248. Finn x Alkar x Ezra x Omen 5.

Eleanor was happily sandwiched between Omen and Ezra, clad in her favourite pyjamas as they dutifully read her a story about a brave warrior princess.

She giggled as they dramatically re-enacted a fight between the princess and her evil brother, both of them putting on silly voices as they swatted at one another playfully.

A tiny yawn took hold of her, her eyelids drooping as she sank further beneath the soft sheets, long, brown curls fanning out upon the too-white pillow like a halo. “I’m tired now,” she sighed, tightly clutching the knitted Faust that Asra had gifted her. “Love you.”

Ezra and Omen exchanged a look, both of their hearts fit to burst as she nuzzled the purple snake against her chubby cheek. They took it in turns placing a kiss upon her forehead, whispering their goodnights and pulling the sheet over her shoulders, her long,  _long_ eyelashes finally fluttering closed.

They tiptoed out of the room, pausing in the doorway, arms wound around each other’s waists as they gazed upon her sleeping form. “She’s perfect,” Omen sighed, resting his head against Ezra’s shoulder.

“She is. I ca—“

A loud crash echoed down in the kitchen, swiftly followed by the sound of heavy footsteps running up the stairs. “Oh dear.”

Eleanor’s eyes flew open, a wide, beaming grin spreading across her face, sleep forgotten as Finn and Alkar appeared, panting and sweaty and grinning mischievously.

“We didn’t miss bedtime, did we? Oh! No,” Finn smiled. “There she is!”

Ezra glared at them as they both pushed past him and Omen, but he found it hard to keep the grin off his face as the little girl burst into a fit of giggles, the two men jumping onto her bed to launch into a joint tickle attack. Omen threw Ezra a look, both of them smiling before quickly giving in and joining the assault.

Soon, the room was a mess of flailing limbs, flying pillows and toys being used as weapons, their dream of a peaceful nights sleep  _long_  forgotten as their own warrior princess laid siege upon them.

Finn swooped her up, roaring loudly as he threw her onto his back and spun her in circles. “Fire, Papa!”

“ _No_!” Ezra and Omen yelled in unison, not wanting a repeat of the last time Finn obliged her request of being a dragon. Finn frowned, continuing to spin her until he got dizzy, Eleanor protesting when he wobbled and handed her over to Alkar.

“Papa! I’m not finished.”

“I think papa is though, my love,” Omen chuckled, patting Finn on the chest as he lay on the bed, defeated. “Not as fit as you used to be?”

“I could still lift you over my head,” Finn teased, laughing as Omen wrinkled his nose, cheeks flushing beautifully.

Alkar hung her upside down, his fingers curled around her tiny ankle. “Does anyone want this?”

She wriggled and screeched in his grip, her cheeks bright and rosy, curls swinging free like a waterfall underneath her. “Help!”

“Alkar, she’s uhhh going quite red, maybe… maybe put her down?” Ezra said, trying to be diplomatic, knowing Alkar would likely do the total opposite of what he said.

“She’s fine!” Alkar grinned, throwing her in the air and catching her against his chest, blowing a raspberry against her cheek. She squealed in delight, wrapping her arms around his neck and letting out a yawn of epic proportions.

Finn climbed under the sheets, Omen and Ezra following. “Come on, bedtime has been disturbed enough for one evening, princess,” he winked, patting the empty space between them.

Alkar pouted in protest, Eleanor mimicking him as he settled them both upon the mattress. “Will you stay?” She whispered, turning to clutch Omen’s shirt in her tiny fist, snuggling against him.

They all knew they’d be unable to resist her request. “Okay, but  _just_  for tonight,” Finn winked, reaching over Alkar to brush messy curls from her face.

They collectively settled down, arms and legs tangled as they wrapped her up, still wide awake, proudly watching her drift peacefully into dreamland.


	249. Finn x Alkar x Ezra x Omen 6.

Alkar and Finn were so used to being joined at the hip, but after a rather poorly executed bout of cheating, Omen had swiftly separated them. They not sat on opposite sides of the rickety old table in The Raven, smirking at one another as they his their cards from their opponents. 

Finn pressed his knee against Ezra’s, throwing him a playful glance out of the corner of his eyes, his lips quirking into a not-so-subtle smirk as he tried, and succeeded in distracting him. Ezra ducked his head, poorly attempting to hide the shy smile that crossed his lips, Finn immediately enthralled and losing all train of thought as a deep, rosy flush swept across his cheeks, freckles like stardust upon dark skin. 

He dropped one hand rest upon Ezra’s knee, relishing in the way he shuddered under his touch, Alkar kicking him in the shin under the table, clearly trying to make him remember their little scheme. “Finnegan, are you trying to distract me?” Ezra whispered, unfairly long, dark lashes kissing the tops of his cheeks as he blinked.

Finn found himself forgetting his name as he got lost in those pretty green eyes. “Pfft, if I was trying to distract you,” he purred, slinging his arm over the back of the bench, fingers brushing along the nape of his neck, “you would know about it.” 

“Ugh!” Omen huffed, slamming his cards face-up on the table, effectively ending the game. “Yes, he  _is_  trying to distract you, because having an honest game with these two idiots is apparently impossible!”

“You ruined it.” Alkar glared at Finn, sinking back against the bench and reaching over to twirl a strand of Omen’s hair around his finger, sliding closer, Omen smiling as he leaned in. 

Finn shrugged, uncaring, a wicked glint in his golden eyes as he turned his attentions back to Ezra, subtly tipping his chin towards him, his arm now shamelessly draped over his shoulder, reeling him closer. Finn brushed a soft kiss against his waiting lips, both of them closing their eyes, getting lost in the moment. He squeezed Ezra’s thigh, smiling against his lips, his heart racing double-time in his chest. 

“Have I ever told you how  _beautiful_  you are?” Finn purred, his voice low, raspy from one too many glasses of whiskey.  

Alkar made a disgusted noise, throwing back the remainder of his drink and slamming the tankard down upon the table in a futile attempt at tugging them from their trance.

Ezra gratefully leaned towards him, opening up beautifully like a flower to the sun. “Yes,” Ezra murmured, smiling sweetly, “you have, actually.” 

“Oi!” Alkar yelled, chucking a pile of cards at Finn’s head. “Stop that!”

Omen elbowed him in the ribs,  _hard_  if Alkar’s answering yelp was anything to go by. “Leave them alone! You do get terribly jealous, Alkar.” 

Alkar frowned, his expression so pathetically stubborn that they couldn’t help but laugh as he pouted dramatically, crossing his arms over his chest in defiance. They quickly settled back into their routine, playfully snipping at one another, trading jokes and insults as they polished off another few rounds of drinks. 

Finn tugged Ezra close, smiling as the other man wrapped an arm around his waist, fingers fisting his shirt. Finn pressed a kiss to his temple, Ezra resting his head against his broad shoulder, letting out a rather noticeable yawn. 

It was so _easy_  being with them like this, losing themselves in each other, forgetting they were in a noisy tavern full of people, wrapped up in only each others company. 

They eventually left The Raven, swaying happily against one another as the fresh air hit them, arms tangled, heads swimming with booze and laughter and  _love_ as they stumbled along the uneven cobblestones.

Finn, Omen and Ezra placed their bets on when and where Alkar would inevitably throw up, Finn cheering to celebrate his victory as Alkar loudly expelled the contents of his stomach upon an innocent stranger’s shoes as soon as they reached the market. 

Too-loud laughter echoed throughout the deserted Vesuvian streets as they ran, the man with the vomit-covered shoes chasing them, cursing loudly as they disappeared down a dark alleyway. 


	250. Julian x m!Apprentice 108.

4\. We slept in the same bed to save space, but now we’re just waking up and there’s something about your bleary eyes and mussed hair.

* * *

 

Finn wakes up in a strange bed, but the body beside him comforts him, makes him feel like he’s home.

Julian’s back is turned to him, rising and falling with gentle breaths, finally sleeping peacefully after a night of fitful dreams. Finn finds himself smiling, unconsciously edging closer as he shifts to roll onto his side, his hand splayed upon the mattress where the smallest of gaps separates them.

He can see the sweeping trail of freckles that dusts his shoulders, the faint scar that sits just below his shoulder blade. He wants to know him, to map and memorise every inch of that perfect porcelain skin.

Wild, auburn curls sweep about the nape of his neck, delightfully mussed from his tossing and turning. Everything about him is enthralling,  _everything._

Finn bites his lip, feeling like he should get permission before he looks at him with a hunger like this, utterly and hopelessly infatuated.

Julian fidgets and turns to face him, his eyepatch still firmly fixed in place, eye lazily opening. He’s flushed from sleep, cheeks rosy as he yawns, stretching long arms above his head before he nuzzles back against the pillow, his hand resting a mere inch from Finn’s, fingers twitching as if he wants to reach out and lace them together.

Finn shamelessly lets his eyes flicker over his bared torso, watches the shift of muscles beneath his skin. When he meets Julian’s silver gaze, he realises how close they are, remembering the way those lips moved against his own last night.

He reaches out, runs a tentative finger over the sharp line of his collarbone, Julian shuddering in response.

“Morning,” Finn whispers, offering him a lazy smile as his touch traces the column of his throat, his jaw, his cheek.

Finn savours the tender hitch of his breath as he runs his thumb over his lips, over the reddened point where he’d bitten too hard, lost in the moment.

“Good morning to you too,” Julian grins.


	251. Finn x Alkar 9.

1\. I have you shoved against the wall but now I can’t stop looking at your mouth.

* * *

 

His fingers were curled tightly around Finn’s throat, their bodies pressed close, seamed tight tight  _tight_  as he pinned him against the wall.

He had the gall to fucking  _smile_ , perfect, full lips turning up, twitching at the corners, morphing into a cocky smirk, making Alkar’s head swim.

He was undeniably attractive, pretty in an obvious way with those piercing golden eyes, warm like liquid fire as they burned into his own.

“I thought you were going to kill me, you seem a little…  _distracted_.”

Alkar snarled, tightening his grip, Finn responding with a choked-off groan, one that sent a shiver rolling down Alkar’s spine, his body helplessly arching against him.

 _God_ , he couldn’t remember the last time he’d ever been quite this turned on, and from the look on Finn’s face, the way he looked at him, he must feel the same.

They stood, locked in place, Alkar’s gaze flickering to those lips once more.

_I came here to kill you, but now all I can think about is fucking you. Shit._


	252. Finn x Ezra 4.

2\. We were dancing but all of a sudden it’s a slow song and we’re standing here awkwardly staring at each other.

* * *

 

“I don’t slow dance,” Finn groans, his protests going unnoticed as Ezra yanks him close. He laughs at the impossible man, knowing how graceful he is,  _knowing_ he’ll make him look like an idiot with two right feet if he even dares to try and dance with him. “Ezra,” he warns, laughing lightly as a warm hand slides into his.

“Stop pouting,” Ezra says, closing the distance between them as he places Finn’s arm around his waist.

Their bodies are pressed close, Ezra tilting his face up towards his, a knowing smile crossing his lips. The song is halfway done by the time he eventually coaxes Finn to move, those emerald eyes wide and glittering with mischief as he gazes up into Finn’s gold.

Ezra bites his bottom lip as he looks up at him,  _far_  too pleased with himself as they sink into an easy rhythm. Finn’s arm tightens around him, Ezra’s skin enticingly warm beneath the thin fabric of his shirt.

Finn laughs, turning his head to see if anyone’s watching, feeling a foreign blush creeping onto his cheeks. “The things I do for you.”

“You give yourself too little credit,” Ezra grins, squeezing his hand before he rises onto his tiptoes, not missing a beat as he presses his lips to Finn’s. The kiss lingers long after they’ve parted, Finn feeling like he’s fallen into a dreamland. Ezra is like his magic; water in his arms, his steps light, elegant,  _easy_.

He leans in to rest his head against Finn’s chest, eyelashes kissing the tops of his cheeks as he closes his eyes. Finn gives in, relaxes, decides that if he gets to be wrapped up in Ezra like this, then slow dancing isn’t  _quite_  as terrible as he thought.


	253. Finn x Omen 7.

3\. I just told you I liked you but now I’m shy and say “never mind, forget it” and why are you looking at me like that?

* * *

 

Omen never expected him to stay, viewing him as this seemingly untouchable, fleeting thing that would just… disappear, like everything else in his life so often did.

He sits on the windowsill, bare feet dangling, a cup of hot tea clutched in his hands. The blanket around his shoulders is warm, but not as warm as the memory of having Finn’s arms wrapped around him last night, nor the hot, welcoming brush of his lips.

He watches Finn intently as the sun slowly rises, still fast asleep, peaceful in his dreams, and Omen sighs loudly, trying to give this feeling that’s twisting and  _tight_  in his chest a name.

Finn stirs, and Omen can’t quite avert his gaze in time, flushing deeply as he realises he’s been caught staring like a lovesick puppy.

Finn chuckles softly, sitting up, stretching, the sheets pooling around his bare waist, the sight assisting in making Omen’s cheeks burn even brighter. He grabs the sheet and holds it around his waist as he stands, moving to join him upon the sill.

“Good morning, beautiful.”

Omen swallows thickly, carefully placing down his drink as Finn moves to press his hand to his cheek, thumb brushing over his lips.

“I think I’m falling in love with you,” Omen blurts out, the words escaping before he’s even realised he’s thought it, smacking his hand over his mouth, eyes wide. “I’m…  _shit_. Sorry!”

Finn stays still, silent, his hand hovering a mere inch from Omen’s face. He looks  _terrified_ , and Omen feels sick.

Then, a smile. Big and wide and  _beaming_ as those golden eyes meet his chestnut. “Omen…” he whispers, voice low, tinged with emotion. “I’m… I love you too, you know?”

Omen makes a helpless noise as Finn seams their lips together, wrapping his arms around his neck, pulling him close, melting against him, and he is  _loved._


	254. Asra x Julian 33.

13\. This wasn’t meant to be a date, but we’ve had such a good time and now it’s 2 a.m. and I should really go home…

* * *

 

“Then he said, and I quote, “ _No one has ever suffered as much as I am right now_.””

Asra nearly spits out his drink, his shoulders shaking with laughter at Julian’s almost spot-on, nasal imitation of the dreaded Count. “Oh, he truly is a piece of work, isn’t he?”

The barkeep wanders over to their table and gathers up the abundance of empties that they’ve accrued with a frown. “Drink up fellas, I’m closing in five.”

Julian nods politely and raises his tankard in the air. “Cheers to another spectacularly awful day.”

Asra humours him, raising his own drink and smiling as the tin knocks together loudly. “Hear, hear.”

They hadn’t realised how late it was, only the dulling streetlights guiding their way as they step into the cold, Vesuvia night. They talk quietly, shoulders knocking, fingers brushing, the cold biting at Julian’s already rosy cheeks as vivid, violet eyes gaze intently up at him.

“I had fun tonight,” Asra says, his voice calm, soothing and  _sincere?_

It throws Julian off guard, Asra usually such a mystery, a closed book, merely shooting Julian curious glances here and there as they worked, but never giving too much away. Julian had fallen for him  _hard_  and fast, and his traitorous heart was beating double time in his chest at the tiniest fraction of attention as they drew nearer to Asra’s shop.

They reach the stoop, and Julian sets his focus upon the stars, smiling to himself as he finds a constellation, feeling a warm gaze fixed upon him.

He turns, ready to say his goodnights, ready to walk home alone, to  _be_  alone. “Well, I’d better… um, I’d better be going.”

Asra has his back turned to him, his palm splayed flat upon the old wooden door, a slight glow emanating from his fingers as the door clicks open. He pauses, turns his head. “Would you like to come inside?”

Julian balls his hands into fists, nails digging into the meat of his palm, trying to snap himself awake because  _surely_  this is a bloody dream. He opens his mouth, ready to say something that’ll inevitably ruin the moment, but before the words can form, Asra is kissing him.

He tastes like sugar, the faintest hint of fruity ale sweet on the tip of his tongue. Julian sways, his head swimming, intoxicated by both the booze and the kiss.

He’s tried so hard to push it aside, this blossoming  _ache_ that curls around his heart like vines, squeezing every time he’s near the witch, but now he knows all hope is lost.

Asra pulls away, looks up at him through long, white lashes and smirks. “So, are you coming in?”

_Oh._

Oh yes.


	255. Finn x Omen 8.

“Stay  _still_. I can make this last all night, you know.”

Omen’s eyes widen, his legs trembling helplessly as Finn stills his movement once again. He’s been pushed to the edge so many times, over and over and  _over_ , only to have it snatched away with a smirk and a mischievous spark in golden eyes.

“ _Please_ …” he whimpers, not above begging as Finn leans in close, breath warm and upon his skin.

“I told you, stay  _still_ , and I’ll allow it,” Finn purrs, lips but a breath away, a cocky grin firmly fixed in place, unchanging since they started. “It’s quite simple.”

Finn is so  _bloody_  pleased with himself, and Omen wants to cry, to tug free of these silken restraints and just…

Finn starts to stroke him again, the movement making Omen choke back a groan, his abdomen tight, that fine line between pleasure and pain blurring as Finn succeeds in making him forget his own name again.

His nerve endings are frayed, sparking with each languid glide of those deft fingers, the effort of keeping his body still making him sweat, but he wants nothing more than the freedom of his release.

“Good, you’re doing so  _good_ , Omen,” Finn whispers, voice pitched low, that piercing gaze never leaving his face, studying him so intently Omen feels like his skin is on fire.

Omen’s toes curl, and he prays Finn doesn’t see, getting away with the minor movement as Finn curiously moves closer, staring at him like he’s parched,  _starving_.

“Finn,” Omen whimpers, meeting his gaze, staring him down, pleading with those big brown eyes he knows he finds hard to resist.

“Mmmhmm?” Finn chuckles, quickening his pace, that slick,  _hot_  grip on him tightening. “Omen…”

Omen registers that he’s going to let him come, that he’s finally,  _finally_  going to be free from this blissful agony. He doesn’t let the thought break his concentration, not faltering, still as stone as Finn drops to his knees, one big palm splayed upon his thigh, the other still wrapped in a tight, perfect fist around him.

He barely notices Finn mumbling his permission as he shudders,  _shaking_ as he spills his release over Finn’s fingers, over his own stomach. His vision blurs, a loud,  _loud_  groan falling from parted lips, his body sprung tight like a coil.

Finn is tugging at the bow that binds him, pressing him down against the mattress, and warm lips are on his skin in seconds, whispering kind words,  _beautiful_  words as the world tips and turns around him.

He laughs, thinking how he’d do it again in a heartbeat.


	256. Finn x Alkar 10.

9\. We’re hiding from the authorities and it’s very close quarters in here, I can feel your body against mine.

* * *

 

The sharp stone that juts out of the wall bites into Finn’s back, an unwelcome pain that’s quickly forgotten as a familiar,  _warm_ body joins him.

They can barely breathe, let alone move as they squeeze themselves into the dark, dank alleyway, tiny by even Vesuvia’s standards.

Finn claps a hand over Alkar’s mouth, his breath warm against his skin as he tilts his head, listening intently as the unmistakable pound of boots passes them by, the guardsman giving his lackeys their orders to spread out, to find the thief at any cost.

Alkar frowns, shifting against Finn, his shoe squeaking loudly against the cobblestones. Finn throws him a glance, golden eyes wide in warning, but his traitorous lips are twitching into a smile, the hard press of Alkar’s body against his own making his head swim.

“Well, this isn’t how I thought today would go,” Finn whispers, dropping his hand from Alkar’s mouth and placing it upon his exposed chest, fingers twitching against tensed muscles. “Can’t keep your hands to yourself for one second, can you?”

Alkar hisses through clenched teeth as Finn shifts against him with intent. “Looks like we could be here a while,” Alkar mumbles, voice pitched low as he slides his hand over Finn’s hips, gripping him tightly.

Finn offers him a wolfish grin and closes the minuscule gap between them, seaming their mouths together, all tongues and teeth as he bites Alkar’s bottom lip, relishing in the throaty groan that rumbles deep in his chest in response.

“Not such a terrible predicament to be in,” Finn purrs, grinding his hips once more, Alkar’s fingers digging in hard enough to bruise.


	257. Julian x m!Apprentice 109.

Julian’s fingers slip from Finn’s grasp without warning as he takes a step back into the cage, Finn’s heart sinking in his chest,  _aching_ at the sudden loss of contact. The door closes, the noise echoing throughout the chamber, reverberating off cold, stone walls. It makes Finn shudder, but he shakes it off, throwing himself at the bars without a second thought. “Julian,  _please_ …” 

Julian shakes his head, his eye wide and brimming with unshed tears. “I have to do this, Finn. I ca–”

Finn reaches through the bars and presses a finger to his lips to silence him, Julian swaying, leaning in almost unconsciously. He reaches for Finn, curls his grip around his arms, and Finn closes his eyes, forces himself to take a deep breath before he can face looking at him. “You’re going where I can’t follow, I… I _cannot_  accept that.” 

Julian has the nerve to chuckle, but his hands are trembling, betraying the laugh. His cheeks are wet, pale skin streaked with tears as he finally lets them fall. Finn leans in and presses their lips together in a needy, crushing kiss, hoping the heat of it will convey everything he can’t even begin to try and say. 

The kiss lingers as they part, Julian whispering his name, making it sound like a prayer, a  _benediction_. Then, Julian’s arms are around his waist, his face buried against his chest, breathing him in as Finn strokes soft, auburn curls, No matter how awkward as it may be with all this steel separating them. 

_As if that could stop them._

“I love you,” Julian whispers, lifting his head, placing his hand upon Finn’s cheek. “I  _love_  you,” he repeats, seemingly worried he’s forgotten it. He traces Finn’s lips with his thumb, carefully watching every breath, every flutter of his eyelashes, committing every part of his face to memory. “I would never have gotten here without you.” 

“That sounds like a lot like goodbye,” Finn frowns, fingers fisting Julian’s shirt as he begins to feel him pull away.

Julian steps back with a smile, prying Finn’s hand away with shaking fingers. “I said I wanted a future with you, didn’t I?” He smiles, but it falters, cracks, lips quivering at the edges. “I meant that, with every fiber of my being I  _meant_  it. So, it’snota goodbye, it’s… see you soon.” 

Finn watches, helpless as Julian reaches for the lever, the noise that follows deafening, metal scraping against metal as it screeches and shudders, the lift beginning it’s descent. He swallows the protests that sit on the tip of his tongue, knowing that Julian  _has_  to do this, but the dread that swirls in the pit of his stomach is drowning him. 

He wonders how terrified Julian must be, and knows he has to be strong, to _keep_  being strong. For him.  _Always_  for him. 

Their gazes are still locked, Finn refusing to take his eyes off him, but his view of Julian is worsening by the second as he’s bathed in scarlet light, the darkness swiftly swallowing him up, and all Finn can hope is that it spits him back out again.  

“I love you,” Finn yells, loud enough that it echoes in the shaft.   

He sees Julian smile, and then…he’s _gone_.

Everything seems darker than before as Finn finally crumples, falling to his hands and knees, welcoming the harsh bite of gravel that stings his palm. 

He watches his tears fall to the ground, blinks them away, and he waits. 


	258. Asra x f!Apprentice 18.

Vesuvia is electric, people pouring onto the streets in droves, the sound of flutes and trumpets almost drowning out the incessant cheering. Asra rises from behind his table, deciding he should at least be a little curious as to what all the fuss is about.

Before he can draw back the curtain, a body tumbles backwards, falling hard against his chest. She’s cursing under her breath, flustered as he catches her, his fingers gripping her arms, holding her steady.

She turns to face him, and his breath catches in his throat. She offers him an apologetic smile, and he can’t quite bring himself to let her go.

“I’m so sorry! It’s madness out there, do you… do you mind if I wait it out in here?”

He clears his throat, quickly removing his hands from her, missing the brush of warm skin and lace beneath his fingertips immediately. “Oh, yes. Yes of course you can,” he stutters. “Do you know what’s going on?”

Her face lights up, and she wraps her hand around his wrist, tugging him back towards the doorway and pulling the dusty old curtain aside. She points out towards the street, a blurred vision of gilded gold approaching in the distance. “There’s a princess coming to town. Nadia Satrinavas, from Prakra. I hear she’s very beautiful,” she swoons, her free hand clutching her chest.

She looks up at him with sky-blue eyes, delicate fingers still curled tightly around his wrist. Her enthusiasm is enchanting, she’s practically dancing, bouncing up on the balls of her feet as she tries to get a good look. It’s futile, the crowd is dense, and she’s small, too small to see over the sea of heads.

He reluctantly pries himself away, grabbing his stool from behind the table. “Here. Up you go.”

She giggles, her nose crinkling as she does so, and he can’t help but smile in return at the beautiful sound. She takes the hand he offers, hitching her long skirt up around her knees as he helps her up. “I can see!” She shouts, wobbling slightly, steadying herself with an arm around his shoulder.

His hand hovers about her waist, ready to catch her if she falls. He cares little about the princess, but this girl…

_Who are you?_

A hundred questions sit on the tip of his tongue, but instead he swallows them, watches her, watches the way waist-length, white-blonde hair sways enticingly about slim hips, the way she nibbles at her bottom lip, nervous energy rolling off her in waves.

“I see her! Oh, I wonder what it’s like,” she muses, twirling a lock of hair around her finger, looking down at him. “What do you think?”

Asra swallows thickly, his throat dry. He’s never longed to have riches and notoriety, not even a little bit. “I… I imagine it’s very lonely.”

Her smile fades as she glances longingly at the gaudy carriage that passes, and she steps down, her hand still resting upon his shoulder. She looks up at him, gaze glittering. “I think you’re right, but… isn’t  _everyone_  a little lonely?”

His lips move, but he can’t quite find the words. She searches his face, piercing eyes flickering over his features, and he wonders what she’s looking for. “Um, I should… go. I’m already terribly late.”

He wants to protest, but he’s dumbstruck, stuck in the spot where he stands. He nods like a fool, and she almost looks disappointed, dark eyelashes dropping to kiss the tops of pale, freckled cheeks.

She turns quickly and throws him a polite smile over her shoulder. Then, she’s gone.

He’s a blasted  _idiot_ , but in the seconds it takes for him to realise he should follow her, that he shouldn’t let her slip away, she’s swallowed by the crowd.

He doesn’t even know her  _name_.


	259. Asra x f!Apprentice 19.

She can’t help but stare as he gracefully steps into the water, the already indecently sheer fabric clinging to every dip and curve, all that deep, tawny skin glistening, asking to be touched. 

She joins him, all too aware of how those violet eyes are taking her in, her skin alight as his gaze roams over her. He smiles softly, politely, but she knows what he’s thinking. She’s thinking it too. 

_I want you._

She sinks down into the water, dropping until she’s engulfed, closing her eyes before breaking the surface, the water lapping around her waist. Her hair clings to her back in waves, and before she knows it he’s right  _there_ , no longer any distance between them. He doesn’t speak, simply observes, hungry, hooded eyes still flickering back and forth her eyes, lips, chest. 

She bites her bottom lip, droplets of water beading upon dark lashes as she drops them. “How kind of Nadia to let us in here,” she smiles, trying to hide the rasp in her voice. 

“Indeed,” he murmurs, reaching out to brush a lock of hair from her collarbone, fingertips lingering upon her skin.

She watches a water droplet fall from the hollow of his throat, down his chest, down,  _down,_  her breath hitching as it dips beneath his robe where it’s loosely tied at the waist.There’s truly nothing left to the imagination now, not with either of them, and she’s not shy, not caring that he continues to look at her like she’s his savior, the water to quench his thirst. 

There’s an abundance of sweetly scented soaps lining the edge of the baths, and she reaches for one, lavender; his favorite. She rubs the bar between her hands and offers him a crooked grin, delighting in the way his cheeks darken as she gently pushes his robe off his shoulders. “May I?” 

He nods before she’s finished the question, exhaling as she presses her palm to his chest and begins to wash him, his skin hot to the touch as always, achingly perfect,  _hers_. 

“ _Aurora_ ,” he whispers, a faux warning, his voice pitched low, a smirk playing at the edges of full lips as she travels lower, tracing the hard lines of his abdomen, moving to his strong arms and back up to his neck. She makes sure not an inch of him is untouched, relishes the hitch in his breath as she wraps her arms around him, pressing in, chests seamed tight. 

His arms are around her waist, fingers grasping the flimsy fabric that frustratingly separates them. He kisses the tip of her nose, her cheeks, her jaw, her neck. They’re drowning in each other, breaths labored as they fall into sync, their hands  _everywhere._  

She tilts her face up, parts her lips and whispers his name, closes her eyes. He moves in, and he tastes faintly of sugar as their lips meet, Asra’s thumbs brushing over her cheekbones, holding her gently, as if she might break. 

Aurora deepens the kiss, muffling a moan of pleasure as their tongues meet seeking, arching helplessly against him. As she pulls away, Asra surges forward, unwilling to unwilling to relinquish her, needing more, more,  _more_. 

She laughs lightly as he dips her backwards, tugging her deeper into the water. His lips are kissed red, his white hair a mess of wet curls that snarl about his cheeks, and he’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. 


	260. Asra x f!Apprentice 20.

He watches them intently, leaning back against the wall as they spin in their expensive dresses and suits, noticing that all of them look so,  _so_  very happy. His masks are long forgotten now the music has started, and he contemplates packing up, heading back to the woods.

Then, something catches his attention, a figure descending the sweeping staircase, her long black gown trailing behind her as she steps into the ballroom. He doesn’t know why, but something about her reels him in, enchants him, even the way she politely whisks a glass of champagne off the tray of a passing waiter is intriguing. 

Then, she looks at him, and it’s not the way her lips quirk into a wolfish grin, nor the way she heads towards him that truly makes his heart stutter. It’s her  _eyes_. 

He’d know those eyes anywhere, that perfect, cloudless sky, bright,  _bright_  blue that had set him alight that strange day in his stall; the curious girl who longed to see the princess.

It was her, even through the cover of her delicate, birdlike mask, he  _knew_. 

She stands before him, raising her glass to her lips to take a drawn-out swig, humming her delight as the bubbles hit her tongue. “Small world,” she muses, her voice playful.

He regains what little composure he has left, smiling politely, his heart thrumming frantically within the cage of his ribs. “It would appear so. I hoped we’d meet again.” 

She quirks her eyebrow, her smile growing wider, more mischievous as she appraises him. She bites her lip, wild eyes scanning the crowd, taking in the dancing masses. She discards her drink and tugs off her mask, leaving both on a nearby table before extending her hand to him. “Dance with me.” 

It’s a statement, not a question, and Asra reaches out, not needing to think it over as he settles into her hand. Her touch is just as warm as he remembers as she leads him onto the dancefloor, placing her other hand upon his shoulder. “So, handsome, do you dance?” 

He places his free hand upon her waist, smirking as he steps close and leads her into a perfect, twirling glide. He leans in as they step and spin, his lips close to her ear, the invigorating scent of lavender making his head swim. “I dance, my lady.” 

She laughs heartily, throwing her head back as she lets him dip her, white-blonde hair coming loose from her messy bun. Her eyes don’t leave his, not for a second as he pulls her upright. “Show off.” 

Asra pulls her tight against the broad wall of his chest, feeling bold,  _intoxicated_ by her presence. He hitches her leg up around his waist, the silk fabric of her gown soft against his fingertips. “You’re quite the expert too, it would appear.” 

“I dabble,” she shrugs, pressing a palm over the erratic thrum of his heartbeat as the music comes to a stop, slowly sliding it down, coming to rest at the point where his jacket joins. Her touch lingers, fingers twitching against his bare skin.

He swallows thickly, cheeks burning as she looks up at him through long, dark lashes, those huge eyes framed with delicate, sweeping black kohl, making the pale blue of her iris all the more striking. She’s beautiful,  _painfully_  so. “I need some fresh air, do you wa-“

“Yes!” She interrupts, disentangling herself from his grip, a delicate flush blooming across her cheeks, trailing to kiss the tips of her ears.

They head into the palace gardens, flickering lanterns lighting their way. He follows her lead, confident that she knows where she’s going as she tugs off her shoes and breaks out into a run, her dress clutched in her hand. He can hear her laughing as he chases her, and as the trees break he spots her perched on the edge of a small fountain, her fingertips skimming the surface of the gently rippling water.

He takes a seat beside her, watches carefully as she pushes a lock of hair behind her ear. Their knees brush, and she quickly looks up, catching his violet gaze. “Tonight was fun, you’re…  _different_ ,” she smiles, but her eyes are sad, distant.

He laces their fingers together, his thumb running circles upon the back of her hand as she twists to face him.

She surges forward, the sudden heat of the kiss overwhelming him, and he’s caught up in the brilliant thrill of it. It’s almost too much,  _disorientating_ , his heart pounding as everything inside him is fit to burst.

He’s never been kissed like this before, barely able to keep track of his thoughts, struck dumb by the slick,  _hungry_  glide of her tongue against his own. She cards her fingers through his hair, tugging lightly as she muffles a moan against his lips.

He’d wanted this so badly since the second she ( _literally_ ) stumbled into his world, basking in each fleeting moment with her as if it were his very last.

_You still don’t know her name._

She climbs into his lap, her body desperately arching against him as he grips her waist, tugging her close, every  _shuddering,_ perfectinch of her body pressed against his own. He’s turned around, just bloody  _turned_   _on_  full stop as she pulls away.

“Oh,  _wow_ ,” she breathes, eyes fluttering open, blown-black to the point where that startling blue is barely visible. “So, very nice to meet you,” she teases, running her hands down his chest.

He laughs, his hands roaming up her sides, over her ribs. He presses a kiss to her jaw, greedy for more, but a loud, echoing shout snaps them from their daze.

She quickly removes herself from his lap and adjusts her dress, fumbling with her mussed hair, trying to put it back into its elegant bun with trembling fingers. She looks shaken,  _panicked_. “I… I have to  _go_ ,” she chokes, eyes wide as she stares at him, looking like she’d rather do just about anything  _other_  than leave. “Please, don’t forget me.”

With that, she disappears into the trees in a flash, and his heart sinks, a sickening dread settling in the pit of his stomach.

_As if I ever could._


	261. Julian 5.

The gravel crunches beneath his feet, and he’s grateful for the glassy red eyes of his mask, grateful that they somewhat blur the sights that greet him on this island.

They unload the bodies carelessly, and he clenches his fists at his side, biting back the words he longs to yell, knowing they’ll only come out broken.

_They are still people._

“Doctor, that’s all of them.”

He nods, stares, and they wait.

“Doctor?”

He raises his hand to silence them, and he’s thankful his mask hides the tears that streak his cheeks, his failures laid out before him, limp and broken on the red-stained ground, scarlet eyes vacant, staring up at the stars that twinkle above them.

”Do it,” he whispers, voice as shaky as he anticipated.

They oblige, lighting the matches, throwing them upon the piles. The bodies are engulfed with flame within seconds, the oil that covers them catching quickly, and the all too familiar stench of burning flesh fills his nostrils.

He whispers as he turns on his heel, wishing them safe passage, hoping they find peace, wherever they may be.

They get into the boat and row away slowly, in silence, watching the horizon become thick with smoke.

Every time it hurts a little bit more, and he promises himself he’ll try harder, do better.

Anything to save them.


	262. Asra x f!Apprentice 21.

Asra sits upon the edge of the fountain and stares up at the stars through the thick, leafy canopy. It’s a warm, clear night, exactly the same as last year, as if he’d ever forget even the tiniest detail of the night that’s burned into his brain like a brand.

He smiles sadly to himself, knowing that sitting here waiting for her is futile. She knows where hi booth is, if she wanted to find him, she’d had three hundred and sixty four days to do so. He can accept that it may have just been a fleeting thing, a perfect moment that would never repeat itself, but her parting words had given him hope.

_Please don’t forget me._

He scoffs, done with torturing himself as he stands, ready to head back inside. Before he reaches the path he hears rustling, followed by the quietest string of muffled curse words, the hairs on the back of his neck standing to attention as  _she_  breaks through the trees.

She frowns down at her dress, leaves and twigs sticking to the intricate, gold embroidery upon her skirt, but they’re quickly forgotten as those sky blue eyes meet his violet. She smiles, and he feels like he might explode, his skin alight,  _burning_  for her as she extends her arms and runs full-hilt towards him.

He catches her against his chest as she slams into him, throwing her arms around his neck and holding tightly. She laughs, giddy as Asra lifts her off the ground, his arms locked around her waist as he spins her, his face pressed against lavender scented blonde hair.

As her feet find the ground, she smiles, beautiful and beaming as she reaches up to push his hair back from his eyes. “Are you real?”

He chuckles, still clutching her tight, unwilling to let go. “I’m real. I can’t believe you’re here, I thought…”

She rises up onto her tiptoes, still smiling as her lips lightly brush his in the briefest of kisses, a kiss that lingers long after it’s over. “I know, I’m sorry. It’s… complicated. But, we have tonight.”

His heart both skinks and flutters at her statement, but she drags him from his thoughts as she grabs his hand, stepping away and curtseying playfully. “May I have this dance?”

There’s no music, but they don’t need any, not as they melt against one another, Asra holding tight, tight,  _tight -_  lest she disappear.

The moon hangs high in the sky as their dance ends, and she guides him down onto the grass, sitting at the base of a large,  _old_  tree. Asra leans back against its trunk, pulling her against his chest, her fingers fiddling with the edge of his collar. “I’ve thought about you every day since the moment we met, and yet I  _still_  don’t know your name.”

She looks up at him, pale cheeks flushed as she worries her bottom lip between her teeth. She studies him for a second before she stands, gesturing for him to join her. “Here,” she nods, pressing his hand flat against the tree. She places her own hand on top of his and closes her eyes, her lips moving frantically with words too quiet for him to hear.

He feels the trunk warm beneath his skin, flecks of light dancing beneath their entwined fingers, like stardust. She smiles and tugs both of their hands away. “You’ve got potential,” she muses. “Do you practise magic?”

He stares at the tree, dumbfounded at what he sees. Etched into the bark is a perfect heart, their names messily scratched in its centre as if they’d done it with a knife.

_Asra + Aurora._

“Aurora,” he whispers, running his finger over the letters, liking the way her name rolls off his tongue. “Um… yes, only a little though. I’m not very good.”

She places her hand upon his cheek, her touch tender as her fingertips move softly down to his lips, tracing the plump curve of them, her pretty eyes curious. He leans in, gravitating towards her, the quickening beat of his heart all he can hear.

He can’t quite believe she’s here, touching him, real and perfect in front of him. “Asra,” she smiles, testing the way it sounds. “Asra, Asra,  _Asra_. Mmm, I like it.”

His name sounds better than ever as it spills from her lips, and she tilts her chin, lips parting invitingly, long lashes fluttering closed as their lips meet once again.


	263. Julian x m!Apprentice 110.

The scraping groan of the heavy metal door echoes throughout the tiny chamber, the walls thick with moss, the floor slick with damp. Finn tries to keep a handle on his emotions as he slowly walks towards the cell, spotting a figure curled up in the darkness.

The door closes behind him, and they’re finally alone. Finn tries to call his name, but it falls from his lips as a pathetic, choking gasp, his pent up emotions getting the better of him as he falls to his knees in front of the rusted bars.

Julian’s head snaps up, and he scrambles towards him, boots slipping on slick stone as he reaches out, grabs his shoulders. “ _Finnegan_ ,” he whispers, his voice no better than Finn’s, a broken, raspy thing.

Finn finds himself unable to look at him, rubbing wet eyes, running a hand down his face. He lowers his head and runs his hand through his hair, feeling utterly lost as he stares at the floor.

“We didn’t have to do this,” he mumbles, “ _any_ of it.” He finally meets Julian’s gaze, that sad, silver eye still sparkling, even in his sadness. “We should have run away, you know. Just… made a life together.” He chuckles, the sound almost manic, the thought of life being easy, calm seeming so far fetched now. He closes his eyes and presses his face between the bars, watches Julian watch him.

“Sounds like a dream,” Julian says, his hands lazily slipping from Finn’s shoulders.

He looks tired, those permanent, dark,  _dark_ bags under his eyes more prominent than ever, and Finn realises the last time he slept was days ago.

Finn reaches out, his fingers tentative, shaky, almost afraid to touch him, lest he break. He cups Julian’s jaw, the soft curl of hair that snarls about his cheeks brushing his fingertips.

Julian presses his hand to Finn’s, holding him there, leaning into his touch. “I need you to trust me,” he says, voice clear. “I… what I found, what I  _remember_ , it’s bigger than all of this. I will fix it, I swear to you.”

Finn shushes him, stroking his thumb over a sharp cheekbone. “I trust you, implicitly. You don’t have to say anything.” Then, he pulls him close, as close as he can get through the barrier that separates them, and presses a kiss to the crown of his head.

Julian smiles softly, but there’s a waver in it, some unspoken break, something frightening about the look in his eye. “What a sorry state,” he says quietly, “and yet you love me still.”

Finn nods, praying his tears don’t fall. He needs to be strong. For him. “I do. Always.  _Always_.”


	264. Julian x m!Apprentice 111.

Finn laughs,  _giddy_  as freezing cold hands lift his shirt, push up the fabric and tug it over his head, discarding it carelessly. Julian splays his palms upon his newly bared chest, growling, the noise rumbling deep in his chest. “Finn,  _Finnegan_ ,” he purrs, a teasing lilt in his voice as he leans in and litters his skin with kisses, trailing from his tensed abdomen all the way up,  _up_  to his neck. **  
**

Finn bares his throat in a way he’s not used to, but the way Julian’s acting has him crazy, _crazed_ , relishing in the way he’s taking control. “Yes,” he whispers, voice husky as the word tears helplessly from his throat, shuddering as Julian places hot,  _possessive_  kisses along the sharp line of his jaw. He clutches Julian’s broad shoulders, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise, much to Julian’s obvious delight. “Tell me what you need,” Finn whispers, smirking, ready to do anything for this man.

He quickly realizes how utterly at Julian’s mercy he is in this moment, that silver eye blown-black and beautiful as he stares at him hungrily, wetting his kiss-reddened lips. “All of you, I need  _all_  of you,” he pants, climbing up onto the table to cage him in, long legs bracketing Finn’s hips. He dives back in and starts to suck claiming bruises upon exposed skin, a delicious trail of slowly purpling, mottled marks running along Finn’s shoulders.   
  
Finn runs his hands down Julian’s back, tracing the divots of his spine, laughing as Julian shudders and groans, grinding his hips, and, _fuck_ , they’re both hard, so hard it’s painful. He turns his head, blindly seeking Julian’s mouth, tugging his bottom lip between his teeth and nipping, tasting that familiar copper tang of blood on his tongue.

Julian is panting,  _melting_  against him, his heart hammering quick - too quick in his chest. He grabs Finn’s wrists and slams them against the table, gathering them up in one big hand and holding them there as he licks deep into his mouth, the kiss blindingly hot,  _scorching_  as the urgency of it deepens, swiftly turning into desperation.

The incessant ache of Finn’s arousal nags at him, and he’s  _this close_  to begging, throwing his pride aside and telling Julian to take, take,  _take._

_Take it all._

He tears away, gasping as Julian stares down at him. “Are you going to do something about this?” He teases, lifting his hips suggestively. “Or are you trying to drive me completely mad?”

Julian’s eye widens, his lips opening then swiftly shutting, cheeks flaring red. He’s suddenly dumbstruck, the mere idea that he’s in control flooring him.

“Come on, Julian, don’t make me beg,” he smirks, biting his bottom lip and reaching for the fastening of Julian’s trousers, unclasping them with deft fingers and fisting Julian’s cock, feeling the heavy weight of it thick in his palm.

Julian stutters in his grasp, hips bucking of their own volition as Finn strokes him languidly, his grip on Finn’s wrist tightening. He finally snaps out of his haze, growling as he tugs Finn’s trousers down, barely getting them off his ankles before he’s spreading his legs, running a hand up along the sensitive skin of his inner thigh.

Finn fumbles for that trusty vial that he keeps close, shoving it into Julian’s open palm with a crooked grin. Julian quickly pops the stopper and coats his fingers liberally with the slick and proceeds to press a digit, then another, inside. Finn relaxes, exhaling sharply as he adjusts to the slightly foreign, yet not entirely unpleasant, sensation. Julian makes quick work of readying him, Finn trembling with anticipation as he finally lines the tip of his cock with his entrance, pushing forward slowly, almost agonizingly so.

When he’s finally sheathed to the hilt he stills, eye closed, chest heaving as he composes himself. Finn hitches his hips, teasing and thoroughly impatient as he begins to move himself on Julian’s cock, Julian hissing and grabbing his hips, pinning him against the table.

“You’ll be the death of me,  _Lightwood_ ,” he growls, voice wrecked, raspy. Then, he beings to move, quick, precise thrusts that swiftly push Finn close to the edge, quicker than he’d like, but divine nonetheless.

Finn reaches up and drags blunt nails down Julian’s chest, transfixed by the way his muscles tense and flex, red tracks stark against milky white skin. “ _Harder_ ,” he groans, slamming his head back against the table as Julian obliges, making him see stars with the now-frantic rhythm of his hips.”You’re doing so good,” he purrs. “ _Julian_ …”

The table creaks beneath them, and Finn spreads his arms, gripping the edges as Julian relentlessly slams into him, making him cry out when he curls those talented fingers around his length and strokes him in time with his thrusts. Finn whispers his name again, makes it sound like a sin as he quickly comes, spilling over his stomach and chest, Julian whimpering at the sight of it.

“I’m…  _fuck_ , I’m close,” Julian smirks, collapsing against his chest as he follows him over the edge, his orgasm cresting,  _crashing_  in messy waves as he buries himself deep. They both lay, sated and silent as Julian rests his head upon Finn’s shoulder, pressing sloppy kisses to sweat-slick skin.

As Julian moves to remove himself from between Finn’s thighs, the table lets out an  _loud_  groan, the legs giving way beneath them. They fall to the floor, laughing heartily as splintered wood and dust surrounds them.


	265. Julian x m!Apprentice 112.

Julian watches Finn’s face disappear, his beauty bathed in scarlet light for a moment until all he sees is darkness. He closes his eyes, the descent longer than he remembers, if he really remembers at all. 

There’s a thick knot buried deep inside his chest, tangling like vines around his ribs, his heart, his lungs, and he wonders if it’ll ever go away, if he’ll ever really find a cure for this sadness, this  _guilt._ If he’ll ever be truly free.

He contemplates his future, the future he longs to have with him  _-_ his light, his sun, his  _everything._  Finn doesn’t hold him like he’s glass, didn’t treat him like a monster, like this fragile, breakable thing. Seeing Portia, his Pasha, how she’s made a beautiful life for herself - he wants that, and for the first time ever he has  _hope_. 

Finn loves him, and he accepts him with all of his flaws, of which there are many. too many to count. 

What an amazing thing, to be truly loved, Julian thinks, the lift shaking him free of his wistful thoughts as it slowly grinds to a halt. 

_And you could be about to throw it all away._

He pushes the gate open and takes the flaming brazier from it’s cage, holding it high to light the way. He quickly looks back at the lift, up into the darkness from where he came, wondering if Finn was up there, looking down, waiting for him. 

He swallows the lump that forms in his throat, remembering the final brush of their lips, the caress of a warm hand upon his cheek, his sad smile, golden eyes brimming with tears he was too proud to let fall. Finn.  _My_  Finn. 

He thinks of warm mornings tangled beneath soft sheets, of kisses on noses, of names whispered in the darkness, of holding hands in the market, and he smiles. 

Then, he turns, and he walks onward, reminding himself of the promise he made.

Whatever it takes. 


	266. Julian x m!Apprentice 113.

Finn would be lying if he said he didn’t wake each morning expecting the bed to be empty beside him.  _Truly_ empty, not just vacant for an hour or two while Julian sits in the kitchen or on the roof drinking cold coffee, needing to be alone with his fitful thoughts, he returns then, but…

What if he didn’t?

Finn longs to wake to noses brushing, a lingering smile at the edge of his mouth, that sleepy silver eye, gaze shifting hungrily until he leans in and takes what’s his.

So, Finn makes sure he kisses him like it’s the last time,  _every_ single time.

This morning his bed is not empty, and long arms wrap around him, hold him close. He smiles against Julian’s skin, unusually warm as Finn splays a hand between his shoulder blades, feels his muscles twitch and shift, sinew under skin. There’s desperation in the air, the breath between them heavy as Julian pulls him closer.

Their lips meet, and it’s like coming up for air, breaking the surface of a suffocating ocean that’s been pulling you under.

The urgency is palpable, soft touches growing urgent, legs tangled beneath the sheets, teeth tugging, tongues slick, and aching hips flush.

When they break apart, Finn quickly memorizes the way a stray lock of flame-red hair slips across his face, the way his lips are swollen, kiss reddened to the point where they look painful.

It makes him want to kiss him again.

The room is quiet, not a sound apart from the quicksilver thrum of their hearts, beating beautifully in sync.

Finn loves him like it’s the last time he’ll ever see him, touch him, taste him.

Until tomorrow, when he’ll gladly do it all over again.


	267. Asra x f!Apprentice 22.

She moves above him in slow motion, her hands gripping the headboard, nails digging into soft wood as it knocks against the cracked wall, and she laughs as dust rains down, settling upon his his tawny skin like stardust. 

Her too-long hair hangs in a curtain around her face as she lowers her head, lips parted, a stuttering groan escaping as he runs a hand over the perfect curve of her back, tracing her spine with the lightest scrape of blunt nails. Her knees rub against the soft sheets, friction against cold skin as she writhes, meeting each perfect thrust of his hips, so in-sync she thinks that it’s impossible that they haven’t done this at least a hundred times before, a thousand,  _more_. 

_Nine years._

Asra runs a hand down her chest, palming her breast, feeling the weight of it in his palm before he sits up, leans in and takes it in his mouth, gently laving his tongue over the perfect, pink peak. She throws her head back, sparks dancing over her skin, eyes closed tight, tight,  _tight_ as she shakes, this new angle a revelation. She threads her fingers into cloud-white hair, scratching his scalp, urging him on as his lips continue to explore her chest, throat, jaw. 

“ _Aurora_ ,” he groans, a benediction whispered against sweat-slick skin. It  _terrifies_  her how much he loves her, how much she’s hurt him, and she tries to empty her thoughts, focus only on the hands on her body, but she can’t shake this feeling. 

She wants to remember, _all_ of it, every fleeting glance, every smile, every laugh, every kiss and…  _this_. 

Asra wraps an arm around her waist and tugs her close, looking up at her with those pretty eyes, vivid violet almost totally eclipsed by blown-black pupils. The way he looks at her makes her weak,  _weaker,_  and he doesn’t break his gaze, not even as his teeth find the soft flesh of her shoulder, biting gently and immediately kissing away the pain his mark leaves.

 _Mine._   

The room is silent now, save for the gentle creak of the old mattress and their labored breaths, Asra swiftly pushing her to the edge as he quickens his pace, sweat beading on his brow. She grabs his face in her hands, holds it tight, thinking how no one should be allowed to make her feel this good and _live._

She listens to him breathe, listens to her own heartbeat and wonders what magic lingers in his chest as she presses her hand to the point where that mark glowed so brightly. “Kiss me,” she breathes on an exhale, the words stuttering as he wastes no time in obliging her request. His lips meet hers, and she tastes herself on his tongue from where he’d devoured her just moments ago, the still-fresh image of him buried between her thighs making her whimper, Asra swallowing the sound greedily as he deepens the kiss. 

They break apart, lips still just a breath away, and he deepens his thrusts, savoring every single moan he draws from her. He reaches up and gathers her hair in one hand, holding it back from her face so he can see her as she falls to pieces. “Come for me.” 

His words and his body unmake her, almost as if he’s cast a spell, her thighs tightening around his hips as she breaks apart, hands trembling as they grip his strong shoulders, nails leaving red marks upon his skin. He expertly rides out her orgasm as she tightens around him, every inch of her coiled like a spring, ready to snap as the waves wash over her, cresting and breaking. 

Asra follows her quickly, groaning with the effort of his release, muffling the delicious sound against her collarbone, hips stuttering as he empties himself inside her.  

“Asra,” she whispers, tugging at his chin, urging him to look up at her. He’s smiling, utterly blissed-out, flushed and  _sated_  as he moves in to kiss her. “I’m glad,” she whispers, a breath between kisses. “I’m glad you chose me.” 

He laughs, pulls her down against the mattress, against his chest, eyes sparkling. “Fate,” he nods. “It was  _fate_. I’ve always been yours.” 


	268. Finn 1.

Finnegan was six when his Aunt Nessa began to teach him magic, much to his parents dismay. She started him on simple spells, brewing potions to sell in her shop, salves that would heal minor cuts,  _harmless_  things. 

Little did she know that he continued his studies by himself, such a precocious child, always wanting  _more_  as something began to stir inside him, flames forming on his fingertips fingertips from a mere whisper, incantations as easy as the alphabet to him. 

He was fifteen when his parents died, and on the day of their funeral, with angry,  _hot_  tears falling down his cheeks, he finally came to realize how powerful he’d truly become.

He was filled with rage, unbidden and  _boiling_  in his veins, and he couldn’t hold back, no control, no  _hope_  of stopping the spark that ignited the delicate thread of his Aunt’s sleeve as she tried to coax him to the dinner table, the thin fabric catching and burning in seconds. 

He watched Nessa with cold eyes as she extinguished his magic with a simple flick of her wrist, and all he could feel was disappointment.

Were his spells really that weak? 

“ _Finnegan_ ,” she hissed, grabbing his wrists, his fingers still hot from the flames. “Where did you learn this? Tell me!” 

Tears burned in his eyes, and all he could do was cry, angrily tearing himself free of her grip, running to the bedroom and slamming the door.

He sat cross-legged upon the bed they now had to share, his childhood home abandoned, empty. He was an orphan, and this was his life now, a life he refused to accept. 

He  _missed_  them. The way his mother would stroke his raven hair, singing him to sleep with a softly whispered lullaby, her kind amber eyes crinkled at the corners as she smiled. His father was a hard man, but his shoulders would always shake when he laughed a his own terrible jokes, a rare joy crossing stern features every time his wife would enter a room. They loved each other, and hey loved Finn, and now…

It was unjust, just plain bloody  _wrong_ that they’d been snatched from him _,_ and Finn could do something to fix it.  

He crawled over to the bookshelf that sat hidden in a dark corner, scanning the various spines, looking for the one Nessa had always told him to stay clear of. Silly, really, of  _course_  he’d be curious if she forbid it. He spotted the worn, leather-bound tome, and it called out to him as he tugged it from the dusty shelf. He traced the elegant title script with an eager finger. 

_To Call Blood to Blood._

He’d hidden his abilities for too long, almost ashamed of the power that coarsed through him, but not anymore.  

Blood magic was wrong, _illicit,_  and Finnegan Lightwood was a natural.

He’d practiced on dead birds, rabbits, any tiny and insignificant creatures he could find that would help him advance his skills. He hid his cuts well, his healing magic not the best, but good enough to stitch back together the shallow cuts he made along his forearms. 

The power was like nothing else, and every time he easily fought off the whispering voices that tempted him, the ones Nessa had warned him about to scare him off, demons that could take him away, posess him, greedy hands pulling and tugging, asking at him to join them.

He laughed them off, the dulcet, dual-tone lilt of his voice echoing, golden eyes turned a deadly, glowing red as he broke free from their grasp with ease.

He climbed up onto the windowsill and jumped down to the roof, book clutched tightly in his hand. He didn’t need supplies, the only ingredient he needed flowing freely through his veins.

He slid down the drainpipe and landed on the cobblestones with a thud, straightening up and breaking out into a run, heading for the graveyard.

Finnegan was fifteen when he tried, and failed, to bring his parents back. 


	269. Finn x Alkar x Ezra x Omen 7.

Finn kneels behind Ezra, running a big hand over delicate ribs, waist, hips. He relishes in the way he shudders, desperately leaning against Omen who sits in front of him, bracing him, catching him if Finn pushes too hard.

Finn watches intently as Omen turns his head and catches Alkar’s waiting lips in a kiss, Alkar swallowing his helpless groan before it rolls off his tongue. They both savour the sounds that Ezra and Omen make, watch with wild, hungry eyes as the two men’s lips meet in the middle, lost in one another just as Finn and Alkar are lost in them.

Omen’s hand slips downwards, ghosting over Ezra’s tensed abdomen until his touch is pandering between his thighs, making him arch back against Finn, the perfect bow of his spine a revelation, Finn seeing stars.

Alkar’s almost angry scarlet gaze locks with Finn’s gold, his scarred lips twitching into a snarl as he picks up his pace, and Finn shakes his head.

“ _Alkar_ …” he moans, breathy, irresistible, trying to lure him back into his bliss. “Yours, always,  _all_ of us,” he nods, Alkar’s expression softening as he pushes a hand into Omen’s chestnut hair and tugs lightly.

Together, they break them apart, piece by perfect piece as they unfold, Finn’s name falling from Ezra’s lips like a prayer as he shakes, desperate hands reaching back to grip Finn’s thighs as he stills, muffling his own choked-off cry against Ezra’s sweat-slick shoulders.

Omen reaches forward, strokes Ezra’s cheek, then Finn’s, tells them how beautiful they are, how much he loves them as they come down, Finn wrapping his arms around Ezra’s waist, holding him as close as he can.

Alkar’s teeth find the flesh of Omen’s shoulder, strong arms holding him steady, and Omen throws his head back as Alkar marks him, shaking with every single thrust until he cleaves. Alkar is loud in his approval, hips stuttering until they both fall forward, and this time it’s Ezra who props them up, his hands slipping away from his grip on Finn’s thighs, pushing fingers through Alkar’s perpetually messy hair, swiping it back from his eyes.

They fall in a heap, tangled limbs and entwined fingers, all of them desperately,  _hopelessly_ in love as they come down from their collective little highs. They curl up together, Finn tugging crumpled sheets over bare, sated bodies, Ezra and Omen nestled in the centre, a lover close on either side.


	270. Finn 2.

**Young Love.**

He first saw her in the market, the handwoven basket he cradled in his arms full of neatly tied bundles of herbs and fresh flowers, his Aunt happily piling on more and more ingredients, the gold lining her pockets apparently endless.

“I’m glad you filled out. My big, strong nephew,” she chuckled, pinching his cheek and adding a particularly heavy crystal to the pile. “You used to be such a scrawny little thing.”

He winced at her remark, no seventeen year old wanting to be outed like that, not when such a stunning creature was heading their way. His Aunt clearly noticed the way his eyes widened as the girl and her father, the blacksmith, approached, enthusiastically waving them over.

She was a full head shorter than him, freckles dusting rosy cheeks and long, long blonde hair swaying about her trim waist. Finn swallowed thickly, his own cheeks burning furiously as she glanced up at him with forest green eyes and smiled, coy and beautiful.

Annabelle, that was her name, and he thought she loved him, but quickly discovered he’d never been more wrong.

Heartbreak was never easy to handle, not when you’re a dramatic teenager, teetering on the precipice of becoming an adult, and already feeling like the world is infuriatingly against you. He let it linger for too long, that bitterness, and he became someone he didn’t like, moving from partner to partner, a different body beneath him each night.

**First Love.**

His Aunt leaves town when he’s eighteen, promises she’ll return but never does, and he’s left alone again.

Then, he meets him, and It’s like something out of one of those ridiculous, fawning fairytales as he stumbles into the arms of the beautiful, white haired stranger with violet eyes and skin the colour of rich copper. The quick caress of soft fingertips on his forearm sets his skin alight, and he leaves without asking him his name, scurrying away in a panic, the feeling that coils in the pit of his stomach all too familiar.

_I won’t be hurt again._

Asra.  _Asra_  is his name, and it rolls off his tongue like a dream as they stare at one another under the shade of an old oak tree, Finn’s name etched in messy scrawl in its soft bark, magic in the air, palpable between them. It really is like a fairytale now as they twirl together under the stars, Finn allowing himself a fleeting moment of happiness, of weakness for one night only.

But, that’s what he promised himself the first time, and this was the  _third_.

He endures one thousand and ninety five days of thoughts occupied with this man before he finally accepts that it’s fate, unable to shift the memory of the way his lips felt against his own, or the way his mouth curls up at the corners as white lashes kiss cheeks that never seem to blush.

He’s steady, sure, and smitten, and Finn loves him, and he’s loved in return. It’s perfect in every way, until it’s not.

Death cast her gaze, but she didn’t turn away.

**Last Love.**

Finn is twenty nine when he finds him, or… when he’s found  _by_  him.

He comes to know the Death Doctor, and with that he learns about all that plagues him, little slivers of his life that escape smirking lips over a salty bitter at The Raven, or through tall tales whispered over a shared bottle of whiskey on the roof at three in the morning, the stars a canopy above them as Finn tightens a blanket over Julian’s bare, broad shoulders.

He falls quickly this time, headfirst into a tornado that he refuses to break free from, even when Julian tries to tear them both apart.

He’s perfect in all the ways that matter, and awful in all the ways that don’t.

Long, cold fingers curl at his cheeks, and Finn kisses him, shares a breath passed from lung to lung,  _connected_ , all other thoughts lost.

He’d give everything to him, his  _life_  if it came to it, and eventually he takes away Julian’s sadness, helps him repent and grow and  _live_.

He’s been lucky to have two great loves in his life, but he doesn’t see the way Asra’s heart breaks when he proclaims he’s only ever had one.


	271. Asra x f!Apprentice 23.

He knows that look, he’s  _pained_  for it, dreamed of it for a thousand nights,  _more_ , and now…  _now_ all he wants is for her to stop, let it fade away.

He shakes his head, violet eyes filling with tears, and she frowns. “Asra?”

“Please,” he stutters, words breaking as they fall from his tongue, “ _don’t_.”

“I… I don’t understand.” Her voice is calm, but he can hear the panic around the edges.

He brushes her hair behind her shoulder, her skin bare beneath trembling fingers as he presses his hand to her heart. He feels it thrum, a little fast, a little erratic, but it  _beats_.

She watches curiously as he mirrors the gesture, his other hand presses against his own bare skin. Nothing beats here, but as long as she’s breathing, he breathes too.

She turns pale, looks like she’s almost afraid to touch him, but gentle fingers curl at his cheek anyway. She leans in, presses a kiss to his temple, lips lingering.

Lucio has made a ruin of their world, but the worst crime he’s committed is this one.

Asra’s been alone for so long now, even with her by his side. Left dreaming in the darkness, her forgetting but him remembering every kiss, laugh, tear, frown.

Every  _I love you._

He tilts his head upwards, daring himself to look at her. She’s more beautiful than ever when she cries, her eyes endless pools of sky blue as tears gather on long lashes.

“Don’t tell me you love me,” he whispers.

Then, he cries. The sort of cry that  _hurts_ , tearing from the very back of his throat, like swallowing glass. His fingers dig into his flesh, bruising, tearing the point where he knows that mark glows, his shame, his punishment.

She holds him, wraps him up and let’s him shake, bedsheets pooled around their waists, the mattress firm beneath them.

Eventually the room falls silent, and she presses her lips to his ear.

“I am yours.”


	272. Finn x Ezra 5.

Finn muffles a groan against his pillow as he stretches, the fresh cut on his side pulling, painful where the blade had grazed him.

_Reminder - don’t pick fights after a bottle of whiskey._

He sits up and lifts the sheet, the white cotton stained red. Ezra shifts beside him, rolls over and cracks open sleepy emerald eyes. “Finn?”

“It’s fine, it’s just a scratch.” Finn says, dismissive, trying not to worry him, but Ezra  _knows,_ can read him like a book.

Ezra rolls his eyes and swats Finn’s hand away from the offending wound, tutting and shaking his head in disapproval. “You’re obviously hurt, now let me see.”

Finn surrenders and lays back, Ezra pushing up the sodden fabric, soaked through with blood. Finn is a shitty healer, but it comes naturally to Ezra, and as he places his hands upon his side, a dull glow forms beneath talented fingertips, the spell quickly stitching him back together, sinew and skin.

Finn notices Ezra is wearing his shirt, the perfect distraction from the pain as it hangs off his shoulder, delightfully too-big and baring perfect, dark skin. He reaches out, traces his collarbone with a fingertip, and smiles.

When Ezra is finished, Finn throws an arm around him and pulls him into a deep embrace, rubbing his nose over Ezra’s jaw. “I like it when you wear my clothes.”

Ezra grabs his chin, pulls his face close, holds it there. “And I like it when you don’t get  _injured._ ” His eyes are wide, angry, but he’s still beautiful, maybe even more so than normal, if such a thing were possible.

Finn moves to roll on top of him, burying his face against his neck, breathing him in, muffling a  _’thank you’_ against sleep-warm, freckled skin.

Their legs are tangled, Ezra idly stroking Finn’s hair as he turns his face, lips seeking a kiss.


	273. Finn x Alkar x Ezra x Omen 8.

Omen sits in Ezra’s lap, neatly curled up, head resting on his shoulder. Ezra presses a kiss to the crown of his head, smiling softly as Omen nuzzles closer, long eyelashes resting atop flushed cheeks as he sleeps.

The door to the bedroom bursts open, Omen almost jumping out of his skin at the rude awakening, Ezra’s book flying out of his hands thanks to Omen’s haphazard flailing.

Finn and Alkar stand in the doorway, panting, shirts soaked through with sweat, cheeks dashed with dirt.

Omen turns an interesting shade of red, huffing loudly as he sinks back against Ezra, his heart pounding. “What the  _fuck_! Can’t you ever enter a room like normal humans?”

Alkar rolls red eyes, his pockets loudly jangling as he moves, most likely laden with stolen goods. He starts peeling off his shirt, then turns his attentions to Finn, pushing his off his shoulders.

Before Ezra and Omen can even think about protecting themselves, the two hulking,  _sweaty_ messes jump on the bed, making quick work of inelegantly draping themselves over them, Ezra and Omen breaking out into a fit of giggles, unable to stay too cross.

Alkar tugs Omen off Ezra’s lap, discarding the smaller man with ease as he takes his place, face pressed firmly against Ezra’s neck.

“Well, this turned into a giant cuddle pile.  _Idiots,_ ” Ezra groans, a smile twitching at the corners of his lips.


	274. Finn x Omen 9.

Finn decides they’ve been hidden away for too long, safely tucked up in their little world in either the shop or The Raven. They were in dire need of a change of scenery, and Omen deserved to see the sun once in a while.

It’s Omen’s birthday, and Finn can think of no gift that could ever truly show him how much he means, how much he’s loved. So, he decides an escape is what they both need, and he finds the most perfect clearing just south of Portia’s idyllic little cottage, a grassy field surrounded by shady trees and littered with an abundance of bluebells, secluded enough that they won’t be bothered.

He eagerly leads Omen into the field, fingers entwined, Omen stumbling on unsteady feet as he’s dragged along, the blindfold tied neatly around his head. “Okay,” Finn nods, taking him by the shoulders, placing him  _just_  at the right angle before he reaches up and tugs at the scarf, lets it fall away.

Omen blinks as his eyes adjust to the sun, no buildings here to obscure it’s brilliant light as it shines down upon them. He opens his mouth, in awe as he takes in the sight before him.

There’s wine, books, a picnic, all laid out on his favourite blanket from Finn’s oddly extensive collection, the colourful patchwork frayed at the edges and covered with plates of his favourite treats from the market.

Finn wrings his hands, uncharacteristically nervous as he watches big brown eyes flicker back and forth. The breath is knocked from his lungs as Omen flings himself forward, Finn catching him against his chest, Omen’s arms winding around his waist as he hides his blushing face. “I adore it.”

~ ~ ~

They lay on the blanket together, Omen nestled closely against Finn’s side, an arm draped over his waist as they watch the sky change from blue, to pink, to orange, to black, the stars bright as they sparkle and fade above them. Finn threads his fingers through long, chestnut hair, out of its neat ponytail for once, much to his delight.

“I can’t believe you actually bought me mustard cake,” Omen snorts, crinkling his nose at the memory of the bitter, awful taste. “At least I know I don’t like it now, I suppose.”

Finn groans, smiling. “You talked about it so often, I thought you were serious! I regret listening to you now.”

It takes only the lightest of pulls to bring Omen towards him, Omen’s chin resting upon his chest as he idly traces Finn’s tattoo. “I love this,” he smiles, breathy, almost dreamlike as he looks off into the distance.

“Love what?” Finn smirks, brushing his thumb over Omen’s plump bottom lip, carefully gripping his chin and luring him in for a kiss. It’s sweet, lingering,  _perfect_. “This?” He murmurs, breaking the kiss, keeping Omen close, nose to nose as he runs a hand down his spine. “ _This_?”

Omen laughs, a full-body shudder rolling over him as he playfully swats Finn in the chest. “Ass. I just… today was perfect. Thank you, I mean it. I usually despise celebrating my birthday, it’s hard when you don’t actually age,” he smiles, sad for a moment.

Finn runs his thumb over the frown that punches Omen’s brow, brushing it away. “Damn the curse, you’re perfect.”

Omen shyly drops his gaze, long lashes sweeping cheeks that softly bloom an enchanting pink as he moves to settle upon Finn’s waist, knees either side of him as he leans in, long strands of raven hair snarling about his fingertips at the nape of Finn’s neck.

“I love you, Finnegan. More than you’ll ever know.”

Finn’s hands are on his waist, his touch moving upwards, feeling every delicate curves of his ribs through thin fabric until he’s cupping a big hand to Omen’s handsome face. “Happy birthday, my love.”

Omen melts, their lips brushing for the briefest of moments before he settles into Finn’s embrace. They find constellations together and listen to the crickets chirping until they drift off to sleep beneath the vast canopy of stars, wrapped up in one another, the worn old blanket draped over them to fight off the chill that sets in.

Safe,  _loved_.


	275. Julian x m!Apprentice 114.

It always strikes him when he’s doing something meaningless, something simple like brushing his hair, or buttoning his shirt. His hands begin to shake, his throat tight as it flows over him, sinks deep into his bones.

Today it’s when he’s reading, sat on the bed that they share, warm and safe, flicking through an old medical journal,  _content_.

It starts in his chest, a twisting tightness that makes him stutter, catches his breath. He sets the book aside, rolls over and brings his knees tight to his chest, utterly powerless, eyes closed tight to try and shut it out.

_You’re not good enough. You’re going to fail. You’ll lose him. You’ll hurt him._

They’d been laughing this morning, teasing kisses and wandering hands beneath the sheets, a whispered  _I love you_ before Finn left for the market. A day that started as perfect as any other, and yet these invisible chains bind him, sucking happiness out of him like a leech.

He presses his forehead to his knees, arms wrapped tight, holding himself together. He doesn’t hear the door open, only notices him when the mattress shifts beneath him, a tentative hand placed upon his shoulder. “Julian,” Finn says, soft, startled, but holding it together like he always does. “Hey, come here.”

He’s curled up beside him in seconds, straightening him out and pulling him close, big arms winding around his waist. “Please, leave me…” Julian rasps, turning his head away, ashamed of the tears that streak his cheeks. This fight happens every time, and Finn knows he doesn’t mean it, knows that he needs to feel him around him, to ground him.

He relents, stays by his side. “You know that’s not what you want, Julian,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head as Julian nestles closer, betraying his dismissive words as the lull of a warm body lures him in.

Julian tangles his fingers into Finn’s shirt, fisting the fabric tightly, twisting it in his grip as if he can pull him any closer. He muffles a cry against his chest, Finn’s steady heartbeat calm, more soothing than he’ll ever know. He’s safe in this perfect cocoon, and eventually his breathing steadies, the tears subsiding.

Finn traces his cheekbone with a gentle thumb as Julian slowly emerges, looking up at him with mismatched silver and scarlet eyes. Finn smiles, presses their foreheads together.

“I’m sorry. I… I don’t kno–”

“Shhh, it’s fine. You don’t need to explain.” Finn’s hand drifts over his shoulders, down his spine and back up, cupping the curve of his skull, playing with the long hair that curls at his neck. “I’ve got you, always.”

He’s solid,  _steady,_ holding him for as long as he needs while his world crumbles, helping everything shift back into focus. He distracts him, telling him about his day, describing the dish he’s going to make for dinner, and suddenly everything feels so very perfect once again.


	276. Julian x m!Apprentice 115.

What he learned in that dungeon had stirred an anger inside him, wiped away months of progress, of learning to love himself and learning to  _be_  loved.

He’d once wanted to tear the skin off the back of his hand to be rid of the stark, black ink, but now he wore it proudly; a badge of dishonor.

He may not have killed Lucio, but he has  _killed_.

The years he’d lived in the darkness, on the run, the blind injustice of it all, and now this.

His coat billows behind him, the drama of it all almost making him laugh, but as his traitorous eyes meet Finn’s perfect,  _sad_  gold, he winces, falters.

He could never have done any of this, not without him, and he’s never been more cowardly as he stands before his lover, his sister, his would-be executioner and confesses his sins.

He looks at Finn, sees the disappointment,  _knows_  he could have done better, knows he shouldn’t have betrayed him like this, but he has to do something, anything.

As the guards lead him away, Finn grabs his wrist, fingers digging in tight. His lips are curled back over his teeth in a snarl, his eyes glowing in the beautiful, otherworldly way they did when he cast magic, Julian wonders if this is the first time he’s ever seen him angry, _really_  angry, wonders if they do that every time. Like molten gold, burning, simmering, shining.

“I should hate you for this,” Finn whispers, cautious of the eyes that watch them, careful not to let his voice waver, “but I don’t.”

Julian’s hands tremble as they replace the warmth of familiar fingers with cold steel, silent tears falling down his cheeks.

_What have I done._


	277. Asra x Julian 34.

Julian turns his head upon the pillow, turns to where  _he_  should be, the smell of him still lingering on creased bedsheets.  

He closes his eyes tight, banishes the image of raven hair spread out like a halo upon a too-white pillow, of golden eyes shining in the darkness. It’s too soon, too  _raw_ , the pain unrelenting. 

He wishes he hadn’t seen, the memory of blood stained lips forever etched into his brain, that final, gasping  _I love you_ haunting him for the rest of his days.

There’s a soft knock at the door, but he doesn’t answer, knowing Asra will enter regardless. He’s hurting too, Julian can see it etched on his pretty face, in the sag of his once strong shoulders. But Asra relents, he helps and tries to heal the hole his absence has left in both of their lives. 

Asra lost half of his heart, but he still gives everything he has left to Julian. 

Two halves make a whole, or at least that’s what they tell themselves. 

He smiles softly as he tugs open the curtains, sunlight hitting Julian’s face, making him wince as his sore eyes adjust. He sits on the bed beside him, but he’s careful, neither of them wanting to disturb the place where he last lay. 

“How are you today, Ilya?” Asra asks, quiet, careful.

Julian pulls himself up, sits back against the headboard, fiddles with the sheet. “I’m… fine.” 

Asra laughs, the sound a little unhinged,  slightly desperate. “Don’t tell me you’re fine, I know you’re not. We are not  _fine_.” He edges closer, grabs Julian’s hand, fingers entwined, his touch so warm, gentle. “Please. I’m here. I’m  _here_.” 

Silence falls between them, Julian too scared to speak, knowing he can’t hold his words together without them cracking and breaking, tearing from his throat in a scream. 

“I miss him.” 

Asra’s head snaps up, violet eyes wide, brimming with tears. Julian smiles, for the first time in a long time. It might not meet his eyes but he  _tries_. He leans in and takes Asra’s face in his hands, thumbs brushing aside white curls where they swirl about tawny cheeks. 

He doesn’t need to speak, neither of them do.  They know. They  _know._  

_I’m here for you. We’re in this together, and maybe something beautiful will come of all this tragedy._


	278. Asra x Julian 35.

Asra has that look in his eyes, the look that Julian knows all too well now, the one he tries to pretend he doesn’t see, and yet he’s weak for it every damn time. 

Weak for  _him_. 

Asra runs his finger along the edge of Julian’s desk as he gets closer, stalking him like he’s his prey, gaze dropped, bottom lip tugged between his teeth. He plants his foot upon Julian’s chair, between his legs, and pushes, the chair edging backwards, legs protesting against the stone floor. 

Julian raises his eyebrow, throws him a questioning look. “Asra, I have work to do.” 

Asra huffs a laugh, rolls his eyes, then gracefully drops to his knees. He’s dangerous when he’s bored, unselfconsciously sexual as he flattens his palms upon Julian’s thighs, looking up at him through unfairly long, white lashes. “Are you going to deny me?” 

One hand reaches to unbutton Julian’s shirt, pushing the fabric aside to roll his nipple between his thumb and forefinger, his other hand pandering between Julian’s helplessly spread thighs, palming the hard outline of his erection. He smiles as Julian’s breath catches in his throat, watching him intently with hungry violet eyes as he strokes him through the soft fabric of his trousers. 

Julian’s hips stutter, seeking more friction, praying that Asra shows him mercy and dips those deft fingers beneath his waistband, no barrier, skin on skin. 

His prayers go unanswered, Asra toying with him, driving him _insane_  as he leans in, takes Julian’s nipple in his mouth, teeth scraping just shy of too-hard, a  _helpless_ , broken groan falling from Julian’s lips. His hips rut up against Asra’s palm, the twin sensations quickly unmaking him, heat pooling and unfurling deep in his abdomen as Asra laves his tongue over the sensitive peak, suck, nibble, tug, repeat. 

“A-Asra, I’m going to…  _fuck._ ” 

Asra chuckles, breath cold against his wet skin as he squeezes Julian’s cock, his thumb pressed over the tip where precum soaks his trousers. “Do it then, Ilya. What are you waiting for?” 

Julian growls, the noise rumbling deep in his chest as he lets go, legs trembling, breath quickening as he comes, warmth spreading in his underwear. 

Asra stands before he’s even finished, biting his lip as he takes in the debauched sight in front of him. “Oh, Ilya,” he grins. “You’d better clean yourself up.” 


	279. Julian x m!Apprentice 116.

There’s a flame in Finn’s palm. He stares, the dancing light reflected back in golden eyes as he tries to find the words to tell him how he feels. Julian sits in silence, in darkness behind cold, steel bars.

He doesn’t look up,  _can’t_ , Finn can see the shame written all over his handsome face.

“Everything you said, all the promises you made… did you really mean it?”

He lets the fire flicker over his fingertips, turns his hand this way and that until it engulfs his palm. He stares in wonder, power coming so easily to him. He could burn the palace to the ground if he wanted to, just an errant spark and…  _gone_.

Julian’s wrists are shackled, and the sight of it makes Finn sick to his stomach. Not only is his lover branded, he’s bound, no longer a free man.

Julian still doesn’t answer, the only sound that fills the silence is the dripping of a broken pipe, water hitting worn stone.

The flame fades, and it’s dark again as Finn curls desperate fingers around the bars, presses his face between them. “Julian. Look at me.”

Julian winces, and… god, he looks sad. Impossibly sad.

Long gone is the furrowed, determined set of his brow, the wild look in his eye, the snarl of bared teeth. He looked like a different person by that fountain, and now he was broken.

Eventually, he turns, the sound of his chains clanking as he edges closer, meets Finn’s gaze. He squeezes his eye closed, breathing quickening, erratic. He’s  _panicking,_ and Finn can’t just sit back and watch, no matter how angry he is.

He reaches out, cups his face in his hands. “ _Breathe_ , just breathe. With me.” Julian forces himself to inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. It’s shaky, tears streaming down his cheeks and settling upon Finn’s fingertips. Finn brushes them away, gentle, guiding him through it, breathing with him.

He loves him so much.

Julian’s eye snaps open, panic receding, fear taking it’s place. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

He repeats it over and over, the words coming faster,  _manic_ until it’s nothing but noise, a muffled string of incoherent nonsense only to be broken when he begins to sob. Finn can see him struggling against his restraints, long fingers twitching, reaching up but yanked back where he’s anchored to the ground.

_He wants to hold your hands._

Finn quickly grabs him, laces their fingers together, thumbs stroking soothing circles upon the back of his hands, and Julian calms.

“I… never wanted you to see me like this.”

Finn squeezes his hands. “Let me bloody help you for once you  _insufferable_ fool. You don’t have to go through this alone, how many times do I have to say it?”

Julian’s bottom lip trembles, his nose crinkling as he sniffs. He clears his throat. “I suppose I’d better tell you what I found then.”


	280. Finn. 3

His power is never stronger than when it’s fuelled by rage, brought forth by hate and anger and  _vengeance_.

He is fire and blood, orange and red, wisps dancing and swirling from his skin as he opens his palms, his reserves endless as he raises them to the heavens and begs a god he doesn’t believe in to  _bring them back._

It all goes wrong in a split second, the power tearing through him like a blade to butter, and he presses his hands over his ears, lips curled up in a snarl as he shouts,  _screams_  until his throat is raw. “You will not take me!”

These particular demons are persistent, an otherworldly hum, a whisper, invisible hands clawing at his shoulders, come, come,  _come_.

He chokes from it, an unholy miasma pressing down on him, filling his lungs as he finally gives up and lays beside the grave, dirt caked beneath his fingernails, dried blood and sweat and tears upon his skin.

He looks down into their vacant eyes and cries, vomits, digs his fingers into the torn grass and wishes he could turn back time. He should have left them at peace, but he’s defiled them, exposed them.

He’ll be burdened with this memory now, a meaningless sacrifice he’ll never forget, not as long as he lives.

He waits until the sun sets, until a sliver of his depleted magic returns and he can heal the jagged, careless wounds he’d inflicted upon himself.

_I’m so sorry._

He fills the hole, covers their faces with the earth, stamps the dirt down and crouches before the curved headstone, reaching out to trace a finger over their names.

_Here lies…_

He falls back, tilts his head towards the heavens and maps the stars, the voices quieter now, but still there, lingering, waiting for him to be weak again. He wonders if they’ll ever leave, or if this darkness he called upon will just…  _stay_.

_Have you cursed me?_

Finn remembers her smile, her warmth, her touch, the way her gentle voice sung him to sleep, a delicate hand brushing his hair behind his ear, and he misses her. Misses  _them_.

_“You are so loved, Finnegan.”_

He won’t forget, but he wishes he could.


	281. Finn x Omen 10.

Omen is dizzy, his skin  _hot_ , feeling utterly too-tight, so turned on he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He presses his head back against the downy pillow as Finn peppers his jaw with hungry kisses, his big body moving over him, Omen’s hands sweeping down the broad expanse of his back, muscles twitching beneath his fingertips.

Finn finally slants their mouths together, tongues tangling slick and warm and  _amazing_. A curious hand pushes up over Omen’s hips, waist, fingers finding a bare sliver of skin between the place where his shirt and trousers meet, and that’s when Omen falters.

An involuntary squeak of surprise escapes parted lips as Finn’s hand pushes up beneath his shirt, Finn pulling back, dark brows drawn together and concern flashing in his earnest golden eyes. “Are you okay?”

 _Shit_.

Omen feels his cheeks burn, feels that flush spread all the way to the tips of his ears as he gazes up at Finn, perfect and caring and beautiful above him. He has to tell him, he has to. He looks away, fumbling desperately for the right words. “I… uhhhh. Fuck.”

Finn slowly backs away, kneeling between Omen’s legs, waiting, worried, maybe even losing interest. “Omen, you’re freaking me out…”

Omen scrambles,  _panics_  at the sudden loss of contact, gripping Finn’s wrists and reeling him back in, close, always needing him close. “No, no! It’s just, I’m… I’ve never done this before. You know…  _this_ ,” he mumbles, gesturing awkwardly between them. Finn looks… confused, perplexed. “Sex! I’ve never had  _sex_.”

Finn is silent, the minutes passing between them feeling like hours as he seemingly processes Omen’s stuttered confession. Omen suddenly feels overwhelmingly self conscious, eyes closed tight, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. He’s in Finn’s  _bed_ , spread out beneath him like he knows what he’s doing, just waiting to be rejected.

Finn clears his throat and presses his hand to his cheek, so painfully tender Omen almost whimpers. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, ever. I’m… I shouldn’t have assumed. I’m sorry.”

Omen’s eyes grow wide, and he quickly shakes his head, an undignified bark of laughter escaping his lips. “I want to,  _god_ , I want to. I’m just… a little nervous.”

“You don’t have to be nervous. We can take it slow, anything you need,” Finn smiles, and Omen believes him, his nerves melting away. “Are you sure you want this? We don’t hav–”

“Yes!” Omen interrupts, and then he’s trying to stop himself from arching up against Finn with a needy moan as he slowly, slowly leans back in, deft fingers unbuttoning his own shirt and shrugging it off his shoulders before turning his attentions back to Omen, fingers toying with the hem of his too-tight top and pushing up, up,  _up_  and off.

Omen wonders how he looks right now, knows his hair is a hopeless mess, stray strands falling free from his ponytail,  _knows_  his cheeks are surely beet red. And then there’s Finn. Finn who is big and bold and devastating. Finn who reaches out and brushes a stray lock of hair behind Omen’s ear and smiles, making him feel like the most special thing on the plant with a few simple, honest words.

“You are so beautiful, Omen.”

Strangely, Omen believes him, the deep rasp in his voice real and  _gorgeous_ as he gazes down at him.

Omen wets his lips, watching Finn watch him, his eyes following the quick swipe of his tongue. He unbuttons Omen’s trousers, their gazes still locked as he tugs them down over slim hips, discarding them without a care.

Finn reaches into the nightstand and retrieves an inconspicuous vial of clear liquid and pops the cork, coating his fingers liberally in what Omen now realizes is slick, and the thought of those fingers curling inside him makes him whimper. He’s touched himself before, sure, even participated in other…  _activities_ , but this was a different creature entirely.

“Tell me,” Finn whispers pressing closer with each breath, each subtle brush of their hips sending a stuttering shower of sparks through Omen’s body. “What do you want?”

Omen closes his eyes and fights the urge to moan, writhing underneath him, and then he knows,  _knows_  that this is the person he wants to do this with, to surrender to. “Y-you.  _You_ , please,” he manages, every word a struggle as Finn catches his earlobe between his teeth and tugs, his hand pandering between Omen’s thighs.

Omen bites his lip hard, dragging his heels back against the sheets, bracing himself as Finn brushes slick fingertips over his entrance. So slow, so light, Omen can barely stand it, letting out a helpless, keening moan as Finn pushes the tip of one finger inside.

His heart pounds in his chest, an erratic thrum rattling deep in the cage of his ribs. Finn is sure, steady, watching him like a hawk as he slides it in, deeper, beckoning inside him. Omen throws his arm over his face, embarrassed at how hot he feels, at the noises he’s making, but Finn quickly tugs it away. “Let me see you.”

Finn adds a second digit, pushes deeper again, and Omen rides out that stretched burn, gasping, blinded by both pain and pleasure and never wanting this to end.

_If this is how it feels now…_

He cries out as Finn begins to pump his curled digits, and Finn greedily swallows the noise with a kiss, his free hand threading into dark brown hair, tugging, scratching Omen’s scalp, pushing his head back to get at his throat, tongue licking a wet stripe from his collarbone to the base of his jaw before he’s devouring his parted lips with a ravenous kiss, catching yet another choked-off cry as it rolls off the tip of his tongue.

“Omen,” Finn rasps, foreheads pressed together as he breaks the kiss. “Do you wa—“

“Yes. Please.  _More_ ,” he demands, breathless, lost in the feeling. Finn’s eyes are huge, a barely visible golden rim circling endless black, his bottom lip swollen and reddening where Omen had tugged at it with his teeth.

Finn removes his fingers, the loss of contact stark as Omen lays spread open and  _aching_ , his cock straining against his stomach, Finn regarding him with hungry eyes as he takes his own erection in his still-slick hand and strokes, hips stuttering into his fist, the quietest groan escaping his lips.

Omen takes a deep breath, teetering on the precipice of something exciting, terrifying, beautiful,  _new_ , and he can’t help the grin that curls at the corners of his lips as he looks up at Finn, feeling free, at ease,  _ready_.

He tips his head back, toes curling against the sheets, hyper-aware of Finn’s cock pressing lightly against his entrance, so slick and hot and…  _right fucking there_. Finn pauses, waits, his hands seeking out Omen’s, lacing their fingers together as he slowly, slowly pushes forward with a roll of his hips.

 _Oh_.

Omen watches Finn’s face, watches the slight quiver of his brow, the sharp breath he exhales, the rare, rosy flush that blooms upon freckled cheeks. That’s it, that’s what bliss looks like. He has no idea how to describe how he feels, the utter complexity of what he’s feeling just… just…

Indescribable.

Their hips are flush, Finn’s head bowed to his chest, obsidian locks falling into his eyes, and then he moves. He moves and Omen sees stars, adjusting to the foreign, incredible feeling of being filled, his back arching in a sinuous bow, meeting him halfway as Finn draws away, then pushes back in a fluid glide.

Somehow he knows exactly how to touch him, how to make him cry out as if they’d done this together a thousand times before, Omen sucking in a breath, his fingers tangling in the sheets as Finn grabs his thigh, hitches it about his waist. This new angle is a revelation, and Finn leans in, catches his mouth in a brutal kiss, Omen registering that growing feeling of pressure that’s building at the base of his spine and flows out, curling like vines.

He reaches out with a shaky hand, cups the curve of Finn’s skull, his sweat-drenched hair snarling about his fingers as Omen tugs him closer, deepens the kiss. At some point his legs have found their way around Finn’s waist, heels digging into his ass urging him closer,  _deeper_. Finn growls, driving him harder against the mattress, a helpless, giddy laugh falling from Omen’s lips as a starburst of pleasure rocks through him, sends him spiralling.

“ _Finn, Finn, Finn,_ ” he stutters, saying it so much it starts to sound like a prayer, and maybe it was, maybe he was going crazy, driven insane by this man, a maddening feeling of wanting to be marked, claimed,  _mine mine mine_  echoing in his head.

He could feel the pleasure building, ready to break into a crescendo, bright and almost too good as Finn reaches between them and curls his fingers around Omen’s cock, the shock of his touch electric until he finally shatters.

It was nothing he’d ever experienced, something no careful stroke of a hand could ever achieve. Finn drops his head to Omen’s shoulder, riding it out, Omen tight,  _tight_  around him as he spills between them, onto his stomach, over Finn’s fingers.

Finn presses deep inside, his own orgasm tearing through him as Omen slowly settles, every muscle in his body cleaving, tight, straining as his hips stutter, filling him up with a choked-off cry, muffled against Omen’s sweat-slick shoulder.

They lay like that for a while, silent, chests pressed close, Omen’s mess sticky between them, but they don’t care. Omen reaches up and pushes unsteady fingers through Finn’s hair, slicking it back, his body still shivering, both of them moaning at the slightest movement, their bodies still set alight, nerve endings deliciously frayed.

Finn pulls back, their gaze locking, gold and brown, and he smiles. “So?”

Omen rolls his eyes playfully, utterly smitten with the  _insufferable_  flirt, swatting his chest. Finn teases him by inching his hips forward, making him whimper.

Omen bites his lip, a helpless smile breaking out. “Perfect,” he whispers, Finn’s crooked grin turning into something softer as he catches his lips in a slow kiss, a kiss that lingers long after they’ve parted.


	282. Asra x f!Apprentice 24.

From the moment he lays eyes on her, he knows she’s angry. It was days like this he missed her - the Aurora from before. He loves her still, but these sharper, jagged edges sting when she attacks.

Aurora stands in the kitchen, fingertips massaging her temple, her back turned from him. He quietly takes a seat, unpacks his bag. He hasn’t been gone long, a day, maybe two, but it’s always too long in her eyes.

Her bottom lip is tugged between her teeth when she turns to look at him, her dark brows drawn together. He wants to go to her, he missed her, so,  _so_ much, but instead he waits.

Aurora’s anger is the worst kind, quiet, careful, but calculated,  _deadly_. She looks… disappointed, and he dutifully awaits his judgement in silence.

“Asra,” she says and it’s solid, stern. “I called for you, I  _needed_ you. You didn’t answer.”

Her hand moves from her temple, fingers pushing white-blonde hair back from her face, and he notices how tired she looks, feels a pang of guilt as he pushes away from the table and goes to her.

He stands before her, and she drops her hands to her sides, white-knuckling as she clenches her fingers into fists.

“I didn’t hear, I swear it,” he says quietly, trying desperately to meet sad, sky blue eyes. “Are you okay? What happened?”

“I… I’m… I was…” her words waver and she takes a shaky step forward, closing the distance that separates them. She closes her eyes and curls trembling fingers around his wrist. “Nothing. It was nothing,” she whispers, shaking her head, the anger dissipating quicker than he expected, but he knows she’s lying.

He reaches upwards, brushing his fingers over her cheek, her skin soft and warm where it blooms pink. “You can tell me,  _should_  tell me.”

She’s biting her lip again, and as her eyes flutter open he can see that she’s crying, suddenly vulnerable, a solitary tear falling and catching against his thumb.

He wraps her up, arms around her waist, hers around his shoulders, and she squeezes. She breathes him in, burying her face into the crook of his neck. “I missed you. I was scared, and lonely, and every time you leave I think you may not return.”

He pauses, holds her tighter, strokes her hair. “I’m sorry,” he says, and that’s all he  _can_  say. He can’t promise he won’t leave again, and he definitely can’t tell her he loves her.

And yet she still holds him tighter in return.


	283. Asra x m!Apprentice 29.

Julian started noticing it slowly, little fragments of Finn slipping away from him, falling through his fingers like sand. At first he shrugged it off, boiled it down to him and his own little insecurities, but then Asra started appearing more often, staying longer, sometimes he’d even be there when Julian got home. 

When Finn first got his memories back Julian thought nothing of it, but it was when he finally confessed what him and Asra had once had that Julian accepted that it was only a matter of time until he lost him forever. 

Lost him to the white haired witch that secretly had his heart all along. 

 _Nine years_. 

Nine. Years. 

He packs his things quickly, hoping to be gone before they return, to just… leave and never look back. Dramatic, but drama was always his  _thing_. 

He flinches as the bedroom door creaks open, and he sees  _him_. Asra. 

“Ilya, what are you doing? Are yo–” 

“I’m _leaving_ ,” he huffs, barging past him, letting his emotions get the better of him as he storms down the stairs. 

His breath catches in his throat as he lays eyes on Finn,  _Finn_  who is smiling at him, heading for him with outstretched arms and muttering an earnest, “I missed you today.” 

Julian stands still as warm arms embrace him, as a kiss is pressed to his cheek, as gentle fingers trace his jaw and settle upon his lips. He clenches his fists at his sides, white-knuckling as he tries to resist the urge to reach out and shake him, scream, ask him why, why,  _why._

Finn registers his mood and takes a step back, his brow furrowed, hands clutching Julian’s shoulders. “What is it?” 

Julian idly notices that Asra hasn’t come downstairs, and that makes him even angrier, hot tears pooling in his eyes. His lip quivers, and he can barely stand to look at him any longer. “I’m leaving you.” 

He looks down, unable to look at that suddenly sad golden gaze, at those eyes that he thought he’d get to stare into for the rest of his life. He shakes off Finn’s grip and reaches the door in two easy strides, but he hesitates, second guessing himself, as always. 

Finn doesn’t speak, doesn’t scream or shout or _beg_  him to stay, he just… stands there. Ever the masochist, Julian glances back over his shoulder, and the sight he’s met with almost floors him. 

Finn is crying,  _sobbing_ , shoulders shaking with the force of it, his fingers clutching his shirt, right above his heart, as if it’s about to tear free from the cage of his ribs and he’s desperately trying to keep it in it’s place. Then, Finn falls to his knees, his head bowed.

He knows why, he  _must_  know why. He must know that the longing glances, the subtle (yet not subtle enough) brushing of their fingertips, nor the whispered conversations hadn’t gone unnoticed. 

_I loved you. I loved you so, so much._

Julian reaches for the door handle, fingers trembling as they curl around the cold steel. He takes a deep breath, and…

“Julian.” 

He turns without hesitation, feels sick to his stomach as he clutches onto the final piece of his resolve. Whatever Finn is about to say, he hopes he makes it quick, he’d quite like to fall apart now. 

Maybe he’d tell him he’s being crazy, that it’s all just in his imagination, that he loves him, and  _only_  him. He almost laughs at that. 

“I wish that I didn’t get these memories back. I wish that I didn’t remember. I wish… I _wish_  that I didn’t love him. I’m sorry, I’m _so_  sorry.” Finn stutters, more broken than he’s ever seen him. This is killing him, and it shows. 

_Good. Suffer as I have. Suffer as I will for as long as I live. What good is a life if it’s not by your side._

Julian doesn’t answer, doesn’t placate him nor lick his self-inflicted wounds. He’s made his choice, for he cannot compete with a love that’s prophesied, that’s been preserved by magic stronger than anything he could ever even dream of.  

Instead, he turns, and he  _leaves_ , walking out into a world that contains a little less magic, and a lot less love. 


	284. Julian x m!Apprentice 117.

Finn relents, chasing after him, placing a firm hand on his shoulder to still his frantic pacing. “I won’t let you do this.” 

Julian growls, tearing himself free of Finn’s grasp. Auburn hair curling wildly about his flushed cheeks, his eyes wide, wild. “I must do this, it’s the only thing I  _can_  do to protect you!”

“ _No_ ,” Finn says, shouts, Julian edging away, but Finn reaches for him regardless. He takes Julian’s face in his hands and holds him, makes him look him in the eyes, gold and burning,  _furious_. Julian wraps long fingers around his wrists and stubbornly tries to pry him away, but he gives in quickly, instead covering Finn’s hands with his own.

“Let me go,” he whispers, “Just… let me  _go._ ” 

His voice is broken, impossibly sad, and Finn’s heart shatters, but he relents. He can’t lose him,  _won’t._ “I love you. I  _need_  you, Julian.” 

Julian’s bottom lip quivers pathetically, his knees sagging. “I… I am not a good man. I must repent for what I’ve done. Please, Finn.  _Please_.” He closes his eyes, scarlet and silver disappearing, wet lashes kissing the tops of freckled cheeks. 

He’s so beautiful when he’s sad, Finn muses, watching a tear escape, trickle down and skitter at the base of his jaw. “If you’re going down, I’m going down with you. If I have to commit murder, I’ll… I will do  _anything_  for you, Julian.”

Julian fists Finn’s shirt, pushes him away, but immediately reels him back in, wraps desperate arms around his waist and squeezes. He buries his face against the crook of Finn’s neck and cries, shakes. “I’m sorry.”

“You will never be alone again,” Finn whispers, stroking his fingers through his hair, pressing a kiss to his temple.


	285. Julian x m!Apprentice 118.

He walks down the stairs rubbing sleep from his eyes, disheveled and still beautifully debauched from a particularly late night of lovemaking.

Julian’s breath hitches at the sight of him, naked but for the familiar, flimsy white shirt that’s hangs off one shoulder to expose a trail of yellow and purple bruises that he had pressed there with tongue and teeth.

Julian is up out of his chair in a second, no thought required, coffee forgotten as he strides towards him and sends him stumbling back a few steps with the force of the kiss he plants on his lips.

Finn is laughing against his mouth as his arms wind around Julian’s neck in an attempt to steady himself, greedy hands clutching at his waist, reeling him in, hips flushed and already aching for more.

Julian breaks the kiss, presses their foreheads together, eyes taking him in, devouring him in one swoop. “Is that my shirt?” He grins, knowing the answer.

Finn tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of Julian’s neck. He drops his lashes and nods, a husky hum of confirmation rumbling in his throat. “Would you like to take it back?”


	286. Asra x m!Apprentice 30.

The attraction between them was palpable, and had been since the moment Finn stumbled into his colourful little booth three years ago. **  
**

Their meetings may have only been fleeting, but somehow Asra always managed to seduce him with nothing more than the dip of his white lashes and parted lips.

Finn had dreamed of kissing those lips countless times, waking up in a hot sweat,  _grinning_  like a lovesick fool. It was almost as if Asra had found a way to possess his dreams, too real to be a figment of his imagination, and Finn idly wondered if maybe he  _had_.

It was the night of the masquerade, and as Finn entered the ballroom his eyes immediately sought out that little table with the beautiful masks, masks that almost felt tailored to him,  _called_  to him. But it wasn’t the masks that he was interested in, it was the white haired man that stood proudly beside them, his violet eyes already locked with Finn’s gold, brushing over him like a caress.

He closed the distance between them with a few purposeful strides and grabbed Asra’s wrist, quickly tugging him into a secluded corner, away from prying eyes. 

“I’m not doing this anymore.”

Asra looked up at him through his lashes, making his breath catch. “I… I don’t understand?”

Finn tried to ignore the heat unspooling messily throughout his body, getting flustered from just a simplelook from this man, and by the way Asra’s lips began to curl at the corners, he knew  _exactly_  what kind of affect he was having on him.

A moment passed between them, a spark burning sudden and fierce in Finn’s chest, and he surged forward, kissing him for the first time in the waking world. Asra’s mouth parted at the first swipe of Finn’s tongue, both of them shuddering, pressing closer, arching against one another as if they’d been made to fit. 

He tasted warm, a little sweet, a little cinnamon, tinged with the slightest hum of magic that made Finn shudder as he brushed his jaw with gentle fingertips. He reluctantly pulled away as Asra fisted his shirt, their breaths coming in harsh pants, Finn’s body tightening in reflexive arousal as Asra  _grinned_ , bright, beaming, and more than a little seductive.

It was unfair how beautiful he was.

“I’m not staying away from you anymore. I  _want_  you, Asra. All of you,” he whispered, voice pitched low. “I’m done playing games.”

Asra made a low, helpless noise in the back of his throat, his kiss-reddened lips parted on a breath. His pretty eyes were blown wide, dilated, and Finn waited, his heart lurching impatiently in his chest.

“Will you kiss me again?”

“Will I…  _what_?” Finn chuckled, eyes dropping to Asra’s parted lips, stepping closer reflexively until they were seamed tight, tight, _tight_. “Of course I will. As many times as you want. Asra… be  _mine_.”

Asra splayed his palms upon Finn’s partially bared chest, dragging them down,  _down._  He tilted his chin in invitation, tongue flicking out to wet his lips. “I’m already yours,” he smirked, arching up onto the balls of his feet to press their mouths together once more.

This man was going to be trouble, and Finn couldn’t  _wait._


	287. Julian x m!Apprentice 119.

“I want you,  _only_  you.” 

Julian sucks in a quiet breath, the weight of the words settling, a tight twist in his chest as he looks into earnest golden eyes. “You mean it?” 

Finn huffs a laugh and reaches up to cup the sharp line of Julian’s jaw, tipping close and bringing their mouths together. A kiss shouldn’t be allowed to feel this good, this  _right -_ like they were made for each other. 

Julian melts against him,  _surrenders_ , lets all the intrusive, insecure thoughts flutter away on a breeze as his lashes flutter against darkening cheeks, and he finally lets himself  _feel._

They slowly break apart, lips kiss-reddened as Julian spreads long fingers wide over the exposed muscle of Finn’s chest, his shirt open in invitation as always. He drops his gaze, taking him in, undressing him with greedy eyes and a sly smile. “I… I really need you, right now.  _Here_.” 

Finn doesn’t protest when Julian climbs into his lap, long legs pinning him in place, showing him just how  _much_  he needs him with a not-so-subtle rock of his hips. 

Big hands grip Julian’s waist, fingers digging in  _hard_  as Finn gazes up at him, pupils blown wide, and a look that could only be described as  _hungry_  plastered on his infuriatingly handsome face. 

“ _Mine_ ,” Finn growls, the word muffled against Julian’s bared throat, teeth biting, leaving a trail of claiming marks upon his pale skin as he pushes up the hem of his shirt, maps his skin, commits every dip and curve to memory. 

_Yes. Yours._


	288. Julian x m!Apprentice 120.

Julian lays against him, the slowly fading sun warming the sheets that pool around bare waists, both of them content,  _happy_. 

“I do love you, you know?” Finn says, fingers resting among the smattering of fine, auburn hair that dusts Julian’s chest. 

Julian quirks a dark eyebrow and turns his head to look up at him. “Um… yes.  _Yes_  I am quite aware that you love me.” 

“Just checking. Just making sure you  _are_  aware,” he grins, so  _bloody_  handsome as the soft, amber hue of the sunset hits his angular face that Julian almost wants to cry. 

Julian laughs, shaking his head incredulously. “As if I could ever forget, you do say it quite often, you know. Maybe  _too_ often,” he teases, turning in his arms, resting his chin upon his chest and gazing up at him adoringly. 

There’s a mischievous glint in those golden eyes, paired with that trademark crooked grin that can only mean trouble. “I can stop, if you’d prefer? I can tell you how terrible you are instead, how much I absolutely  _loathe_  you?” 

“Have you taken something? Are you feeling okay?” Julian teases, reaching up to press his hand to Finn’s forehead. “I’m a doctor, you know.”  

Finn scoffs and pushes his hand away, that grin lingering, as Julian edges closer, straddles his waist, long fingers finding his wrists and pinning them to the mattress. 

Finn shrugs, clearly thrilled with this little turn of events as he wiggles his hips. “Maybe I’m just crazy,” he sighs. 

“Don’t do it. Don’t say it,” Julian groans, leaning in, back arched as his lips hover mere centimeters from Finn’s. 

“Crazy… in  _love_!”  

Julian makes a disgusted noise and surges forward to capture that smart mouth in a kiss, Finn catching his bottom lip between his teeth. 

Finn flips him with ease, pins him, and proceeds to pepper his neck with sloppy kisses, kisses that make Julian squirm, his heart full, fit to burst.  


	289. Asra x Julian 36.

Asra finds him huddled in the corner, sat on the dusty ground and resting his head upon his drawn-up knees.

He takes in the mess of the library, books scattered haphazardly, strewn across the floor with pages carelessly torn and crumpled. Julian’s desk is a flurry of spilt obsidian ink and ruined parchment, and he steps over a smashed teacup as he makes his way towards the hunched-over Doctor.

He carefully crouches before him and presses his hand to Julian’s shoulder, his touch gentle, tentative. “Ilya. What happened?”

Julian jumps at the contact, head snapping up, hair a mess of fiery curls that stick up in all directions, a few strands swirling about his pale cheeks. He looks infinitely more exhausted than usual as he blearily opens his eyes, and Asra finds himself choking back a cry as he sees it.

_Red._

He drops to his knees, hands trembling, his mind reeling. How…  _how_?

“Ilya…  _no_.”

Julian scoffs a laugh, dried tears streaking his cheeks, his beautiful silver eyes dull, void of their usual mischievous glimmer, and the sleeve of his shirt is stained crimson, splattered with blood he’d no doubt coughed up if this really was the dreaded plague.

“Impossible,” Asra stutters, his voice a mere rasp, broken and devastated. “How…”

“Him.  _He_  did it, I know it. I just… I know it had to be him,” Julian sneered, standing on unsteady legs, swaying before catching himself against a dusty bookcase. “I’ve taken every precaution, I’ve… I’ve… he joked about an incentive to get me to discover the cure. How could I be so  _stupid_ …”

Asra rushes to his feet, grips him about the waist, and Julian stills at the touch, his now incoherent babbling trailing off. Asra pauses before wrapping his arms around his waist, resting his head between Julian’s shoulder blades and he just… holds him.

“Ilya, let me help you. I can help you. You’re not alone, and he will  _pay._ ”

Julian sinks into the embrace, places his hands on top of Asra’s. “There’s no helping me now.”


	290. Asra x f!Apprentice 25.

He’d been a coward for the last three years, never telling her how much he needs her, wants her,  _loves_ her.

Not tonight.

Tonight she unclasps her necklace and lays it out upon her dresser, smiling to herself as he wraps his arms around her waist, presses a kiss to her shoulder.

He still can’t quite believe that she’s real, that she’s asked him to accompany her home as if she’d read his spiralling thoughts. He splays a palms upon her stomach, another at her waist, gently tugging her back against his chest, relishing in how wonderfully they fit together.

“You are so beautiful,” he whispers, gathering long, blonde hair in his hand, brushing it aside, watching intently as it cascades down her back in perfect waves.

She whimpers quietly as he catches her earlobe between his teeth, kissing down the exposed line of her neck, and she’s melting against him, sagging as he holds her tighter, teeth scraping her skin.

His hands roam all over her body, exploring, committing every curve to memory. He goes lower,  _lower,_ deft fingers finding the hem of her dress, dragging it up her thighs, her head lulling back to rest against his shoulder, her dark lashes a smudge against flushed cheeks. “Asra, take me to bed.”

He doesn’t second guess it as he guides her down onto the low mattress, hands still covering her newly bared thighs as she straddles his waist. She pulls her dress over her head and lets it pool on the floor, a dash of forgotten obsidian silk in the darkness. 

Aurora climbs off of his lap, lays beside him bare and  _beautiful_ as he crawls over her, his hand pandering at the crux of her thighs, a low noise of encouragement falling from helplessly parted lips as his fingers find his mark, her legs shaking as he touches her, feather light.

“Asra,” she purrs, back arched, his name like honey on her tongue. He presses his lips to her shoulder as he continues his teasing touches, his cock thick and  _aching_ between his legs, straining against the restrictive fabric of his trousers.

She’s breathing hard, heavy, and he can’t take his eyes off her. She’s restless, reaching for him, and he sways towards her like a flower to the sun, feeling the heat that spreads through her at the clever swipe of his fingers.

“M-more,” she rasps, subtly grinding her hips against his hand, fingers curling around his wrist, stilling his movements. “Asra.  _More_.”

He smiles, slowly sliding his fingers out, back in, curling them, brushing the spot that makes her cry out, fold at the middle. She turns her attentions to removing his clothes, careless as she tears at his trousers, sky-blue eyes hungry as she takes him in, drags a hand down his chest, long nails leaving angry, red furrows upon tawny skin.

She doesn’t need to mourn the loss of his touch for long, not as he settles between her thighs, nor as he presses his lips to her own, tongues slick, his name whispered on a breath that’s passed between them as he surges  forward with a steady roll of his hips, filling her to the hilt.

He reluctantly breaks the kiss, Aurora chasing his lips with a sly tilt of her head, reaching up to hold his face in her hands as he begins to steal the breath from her lungs with each laboured thrust.

He presses his forehead to hers, hips bucking as he finds his rhythm. “Mine,” he whispers, blown-black violet eyes burning into hers.

She offers him a crooked grin, drags her nails down the hard, shifting lines of his back. “Yes,  _yours_ ,” she purrs, gasping, giving in, surrendering herself to him.  

He can’t stop himself from kissing her again, not as she hooks her ankles around his waist and urges him closer,  _deeper_ into that tight, wet heat in a greedy, wordless plea of more, more,  _more_.

Her golden hair is spread upon her dark pillows, fanned out like a halo, and he idly wonders for a moment if she  _could_  possibly be an angel, clearly going absolutely  _mad_  from the feel of her tightening and squeezing around him as he circles his thumb over that tight bundle of nerves.

Her orgasm hits her in waves, cleaving and crashing messily, her cries strangled and she shudders, falls apart. He can’t compete with the way her body lures him in, coaxes his own orgasm out of him as he spills inside her, his final thrusts stuttering, broken as he muffles a groan against her shoulder.

Her fingers are in his hair, nails scratching his scalp, lips pressed to his ear, whispering, telling him how good he feels, how she’s waited for this moment for what felt like a lifetime.

He nods, dazed, peppering sweat-slick skin with kisses, a trail from the peak of her perfect breast to the base of her jaw.

He hums lazily, sliding out of her, both of them hissing, sensitive but still craving that connection. He gathers her up in his arms, and she rests her head upon his chest, their arms tightly wound around one another as if one of them might float away, disappear.

“Asra,” she sighs, breathy, gorgeous as she falls asleep in his arms.

In the arms of the man who loves her, who will love her until the day he dies.


	291. Julian x m!Apprentice 121.

Some days all Finn had to do was look at him a certain way and all rational thought was banished from his mind.

Today was one of those days.

As soon as he’d crossed the shop’s threshold and shirked his coat, Finn had curled his fingers around his wrist and led him directly to the bedroom,  _their_  bedroom.

Julian presses close, seamed tight against the sturdy breadth of Finn’s chest, flushed,  _panting_  as Finn begins to hastily tear his clothes away, handling him roughly, just how he likes it.

He sucks in a breath, biting the inside of his mouth as Finn grips his hips, golden eyes dropping, taking him in, Julian going hard, so  _fucking_  hard it was torture,  _unjust_  that Finn wasn’t touching him more, everywhere.

He squeezes his eyes shut as Finn pushes him down onto the bed, looming over him, debauched and utterly devastating as he shrugs his shirt off his shoulders and falls to his knees, crawling up the bed until he’s covering him.

Finn cups his jaw with one big hand, thumb brushing over his cheek. “I want nothing more than to throw you against that wall and fuck you until you scream my name,” he whispers, Julian groaning in response. “But I think we’ll take it  _slow_.”

He proceeds to tangle his fingers in auburn curls, pressing in to lick deep into his mouth in a scorching,  _crushing_  kiss.

Julian shudders, the madness setting in, and he’s reminded how willing he is to die for this man, a crazy kind of love that’s all-consuming, running bone deep, deeper than right or wrong. He’s wholly, irrevocably  _his_ , and he had been from the moment they laid eyes on each other.

“Yours,” Julian breathes, utterly lost, at his mercy.

Finn smirks. “Yes,  _mine_.” He tugs Julian’s trousers down over his hips, thighs, legs, throwing them to the side. Julian is naked, exposed like a frayed nerve, cock painfully hard, his entire body alive,  _thrumming_  with desire.

He’s hyper-aware of the rasp of Finn’s trousers, of a huge hand grasping his waist, of rough fingers in his hair. Finn’s kissing him again, tongue thrust deep, Julian’s back arched into a bow, fit to snap, long legs moving helplessly as he groans against the hot,  _hot_  swipe of Finn’s tongue as he drags it down his bared throat.

“Finn…  _fuck_. Do… do you want me to beg?” he mumbles, Finn’s head snapping up to fix him with a gaze that’s edging on dangerous. “Because I will  _beg_.”

Finn laughs, the deep rasp of it making Julian whimper, and he gathers Julian’s wrists in one big hand. He’s helpless, pinned by that big body, by those hands, his pulse protesting against tightening fingertips. “Please,” he whimpers. “I want you, Finn…”

Finn’s grip tightens, eyes darkening, and Julian would definitely be bruised tomorrow, the thought alone making him quake. He wanted more than anything be marked by him, to be black and blue from the press of hands and mouth, to be thoroughly claimed so that no one would ever question who he belonged to now that he’d been freed of his curse. 

Finn watches him carefully as he slides his hand down Julian’s tensed stomach, blunt nails leaving red furrows in their wake. Julian’s hips jerk as Finn brushes those fingers over the crown of his cock, his touch feather-light, infuriatingly gentle. “I want… I  _want_ …”

Finn laughs, a little manic, darkening eyes sparkling. “You want? Tell me, Julian, what  _do_  you want?”

Julian flushes, feels his cheeks burning as Finn finally,  _finally_  takes his aching cock in his hand and squeezes. “I… I want to come. Please.”

Finn bites his lip, still smirking, messing with him. “Hmm, no.  _No_ , you’re not going to come until I’m buried deep inside you. Do you understand?”

Julian has no reply, struck-dumb as those words wash over him. Finn releases him, the loss of contact almost a relief as he slowly unbuttons his trousers, spreading them open to reveal sharp, arching hipbones, the delicious cut of his muscles tightening as he pulls them off.

Finn’s grin is wide,  _wicked_  as he grips his own thick, flushed erection, his eyes fluttering closed as he strokes himself, Julian unable to tear his eyes away, watching, waiting.

 _Fuck_ , he wanted him inside him, wanted Finn to curl deft fingers around his wrists and pin them over his head, to drive deep into the tight clench of his body, and judging by the way Finn is looking at him, he’s having the exact same thought, knows how much he wants it,  _needs_  it. 

Julian dares to reach between his legs, needing to quell that almost painful ache, but Finn quickly grabs him. “Don’t you dare,” he snarls. “That’s  _my_  job.”

Julian mutters a broken plea, no longer able to stand this burning desire that’s taking over, his legs trembling as Finn carefully turns him over onto his front and parts his thighs, running a hand over the curve of his ass before he pulls back and brings his hand down  _hard_ , the welcome sting rolling over Julian like a shockwave. “ _Again_ ,” he begs, writhing, rutting against the mattress.

“No,” Finn laughs, leaning over to grab the slick from the nightstand, carefully coating his fingers. “I have something better to offer you,” he purrs, pushing a slick finger inside, leaning in to bury his face against the curve of Julian’s neck, Julian whining as he adjusts to the intrusion.

He relaxes as Finn adds another digit, his body melting into easy submission, Finn’s fingers curling inside him, hitting that spot that makes him scream. He buries his face against the downy pillow to stifle the sound, fingers tangled amongst the sheets as he grasps for purchase.

“Finn,  _please_  just… just fuck me. Please I can’t, I  _cannot_ …,” he mumbles, babbling, incoherent. Finn nibbles his earlobe, that talented tongue painting a wet stripe down the column of his throat, mouthing at his skin, removing his fingers from inside him to drag restless hands down Julian’s back, tracing the divots of his spine before he kneads the pert curve of his ass, fingers digging in  _hard_ , leaving his mark yet again.

Julian has well and truly lost his mind now, driven to the brink as Finn continues to drag this out, torn between impatience and  _bliss_. 

The mattress shifts with Finn as he settles behind him, placing himself at his entrance and slowly,  _slowly_  pushing into the eager,  _tight_  clench of his body, stilling when he’s sheathed to the hilt, Julian finally filled up, panting.

Finn sucks in a breath as he carefully draws back, his body tense, controlled as he pushes into the slick glide of his body. “Fuck, Julian. So  _tight_ , so…”

He pauses, hands grabbing Julian’s waist, and he pulls back once again, only to slam his hips forward, punishing,  _devastating_  as he drives the breath from Julian’s lungs, his pace savage, Julian giving himself over to it and rutting up to meet the next thrust.

Finn pounds into him with an unhinged wildness that can’t be described as anything other mind-blowing, Julian’s cock pressed tight against the mattress, and he wants to,  _needs_  to  stroke himself, but he knows it’s  forbidden,  _knows_  he’d be punished in a way he certainly has no patience for this evening.

“Mine,” Finn growls, breath hot and sweet against Julian’s ear as he fucks him hard,  _harder_ , verging on desperate. “Tell me.  _Say_  it.”

Julian reaches back, grips Finn’s strong thighs and glances over his shoulder, silver eyes meeting gold. “Yours. Only yours,” he groans, voice a wrecked, pathetic rasp.

He can feel  _everything_ , every twitch, every delicious pulse, his own body tightening as Finn pushes him closer and closer to the edge, the thought that he might finally be permitted to come making him laugh. 

Oh. He’d truly lost his mind.

“Finn,” he keens, so  _close_  he can feel that heat building in his stomach, toes curling, breath catching with each relentless slam of Finn’s hips.

Finn flashes his teeth in a snarl, the corners of his lips curling, shifting into a smile. He reaches down, sliding a hand beneath Julian and takes his cock in his hand, his thumb spreading the wetness that beads at the tip, stroking him in a slick glide, and Julian idly wonders if he’s ever even been  _this_  hard.

“Julian…  _please_ , I’m… come with me.”

And that was all it took.

Julian comes violently, shouting with his release, white flashing behind his eyelids as his hips stutter manically, Finn growling through his own release, gripping Julian so hard it’s painful, but so,  _so_  welcome.

Finn collapses on top of him, hissing through clenched teeth as he draws back and turns Julian over, peppering his sweat-slick skin with messy, open-mouthed kisses. He dips lower,  _lower_  still, lapping up some of the mess that coats his stomach, humming greedily before he presses their mouths together in a sinful kiss, Julian tasting himself on his tongue, tugging at raven hair, pulling him closer.

“I love you,” Finn murmurs between breaths, the words stolen, kissed away. “God, I love you so  _fucking_  much.”

Julian laughs, delighted, sated as Finn buries his face into the crook of his neck. “I love you too, you terrible, beautiful man.”


	292. Julian x m!Apprentice 122.

This morning Finn had woken up beside him.

Fiery red curls a mess upon the pillow, his nose crinkling as he dreamed, a hand draped over Finn’s waist, fingers twitching, legs tangled.

Finn had reached out, brushed warm fingertips over parted lips and smiled when he’d stirred.

Content, peaceful,  _safe._

He wanted this for them every morning. Wanted to talk over a cup of black coffee, to watch him smile as the sun streamed through gauzy curtains, casting shadows on his handsome face. He wanted to walk with him through the market, fingers laced together, exchanging knowing glances.

He wanted to have forever with him. For him to be free.

”Julian, look at me.”

Julian lifts his mismatched gaze, silver and scarlet shining in the din. He smiles, meeting Finn halfway as they press their heads to the cold steel, twining their fingers together. “I’m sorry that it’s come to this,” Julian whispers, words breaking.

Finn can’t help but smile, sick as that may be. “It might have been fleeting, but it was beautiful. I love you so much, Julian.”

When Julian looks at him he can almost pretend that everything would be alright, even though the world has shattered and crashed around them, cruel and unjust.

”I love you too. Thank you,  _thank_  you.”

In their final moments, he keeps his eyes on him, and they both smile, a memory of a whispered promise that only they know of, a final kiss pressed between bars.

_See you on the other side, my love._


	293. Asra x Julian 37.

He thought he’d be able to handle it, to be in their presence just so he could be near him.

How laughably wrong he’d been.

They were cautious, respectful around him, but it was impossible to ignore the way they gravitated towards one another, the lingering looks between them making Asra’s heart ache.

Asra finds himself alone with Julian, sitting at the kitchen table cradling a cup of hot tea, Julian with his third black coffee. “You… you are wonderful together,” Asra whispers, trailing a finger around the rim of his mug, avoiding having to look up into pretty silver eyes.

“Asra, I ca—“

Asra raises his hand to silence him. “I want you to be happy, both of you.”

He means it, he thinks.

He smiles, let’s himself look up, the sunlight catching in Julian’s hair. “I’ve been so lucky, to have loved both of you.”

Julian falters, eyes wide, lips parted as if he’s about to speak, but he thinks better of it, gaze dropping.

“It was never right, you and I. And now I want to hate you, with every fibre of my being I want to  _hate_  you for taking him,” he laughs, the sound catching in his throat.

His words stumble in his mouth, linger on his tongue. He grips the mug tighter, knuckles bleeding white. “But he wasn’t mine, not really, not after…”

He trails off, memories of a time long past, forgotten by some, but not by him. Memories of waking up to find golden eyes watching him with a smile, of magic, of  _love_.

He takes a deep breath, and he finally lets go, reaching over the table with trembling fingers to place his hands over Julian’s. “Take care of him.”


	294. Finn x Omen 11.

“Please?”

Omen looks up at him, trying his hardest to not get caught up in those eyes, eyes that are currently huge and sad like a  _damn_ puppy.

“Finnegan, no. It’s not happening. I’m not doing this with you right now.”

Finn huffs, throwing himself into an armchair as Omen potters about in the kitchen, making himself busy so he doesn’t have to watch Finn wallow in dramatic self-pity.

He lights up the stove and begins gathering ingredients for a soup, muttering to himself as he tries to remember Ezra’s recipe. Soon, a pair of warm arms snake around his waist, pulling him back against a broad chest.

Omen flushes almost immediately, thankful Finn can’t see his face, yelping when a big hand begins to toy with the hem of his shirt, soft lips peppering his throat with languid kisses.

He can’t help the groan that falls from his lips, his head lulling forward as Finn begins to unlace his trousers, nor can he help the breathy way he says his name as deft fingers dip down inside to…

“Wait!” Omen squeaks, quickly disentangling himself from Finn’s grasp. He clears his throat, shaking off the daze that had settled over him thanks to that clever mouth, and even cleverer hands. “You ass!”

Finn bites his bottom lip and runs his hands through messy raven hair, the picture of innocence. “Me?”

Omen huffs, his cheeks burning from both arousal and, well… mainly arousal. “You… you were trying to distract me.”

Finn stepped forward, caging him against the countertop with that big body and curling his fingers around his wrist, bringing it up to his mouth to press his lips to Omen’s fluttering pulse. “It looks like it’s working.”

Omen melts against him, furious, but utterly at his mercy as he watches those golden eyes take him in, his sweeping gaze like a caress. “Finnegan,” he whispers, eyes fluttering closed as Finn begins to finish what he started.

Finn presses his lips to his ear, his voice low, delicious. “Just one little fire?”

Omen whimpers, all hope lost as Finn lifts him up onto the counter and falls to his knees. “Shit.”


	295. Finn x Alkar 11.

Finn waited in the office, taking in his over-the-top surroundings before his gaze settled upon the empty leather chair. He smiled to himself, the hairs on the back of his neck standing to attention as the memory of the last time he was here flooded his mind. He’d ended up on his knees, pledging his loyalty to his General in a much more exciting way than a meager salute.

The door swung open, snapping him from his little daydream, and Alkar entered, his head held high and that all-too familiar scowl fixed firmly on his handsome face.

Finn continued his streak of defiance and stayed seated, offering him no respect. Alkar huffed a laugh, throwing him a pointed glare as he took a seat upon the edge of his ornate desk directly in front of him, their legs mere inches from touching.

“Lightwood. What did you do this time?”

Finn didn’t even try to hide the way his gaze swept over the general like he was surveying his next meal. “Oh, nothing really. I may have just gotten into a  _little_  scrap with one of your colonels.” He flicks his tongue out to poke at the fresh cut that runs through his bottom lip, not missing the way Alkar’s eyes followed the movement.

Alkar stares him down, his expression unreadable as he seemingly ponders what punishment he would be dishing out. Finn relaxes in his seat, idly picking at a loose thread on his newly ripped trousers.

“You’ll be assigned to me for a month to do chores, keep my office and quarters in order. Under no circumstances are you to step foot on the training field, and you won’t be deployed on any missions,” he nods, standing up. “You’re dismissed. Report to my quarters for six am  _sharp_. I like my coffee black.”

“What if I don’t want to obey these orders,  _Sir_?”

Alkar laughs as he stands and begins to remove his scabbard, his sword clattering onto the desk as he discards it. He clasps the arms of the chair in which Finn sits, leaning in until he’s close enough for Finn to feel his warm, breath upon his lips. He reaches out and grips his chin, tilting his face this way and that. “You are a stubborn one, aren’t you?”

Finn swears he sees something flash behind those wild crimson eyes, maybe it’s curiosity, or maybe it’s amusement, but his errant thought is wiped away when Alkar surges forward and catches his lips in a punishing kiss, Finn hissing as he nips at the still-bleeding cut.

The kiss is deep, searching, and the slick tangle of their tongues makes Finn groan, his hips helplessly writhing against the leather of the chair as Alkar plants a knee between his thighs. He never was one to submit, but with this man he finds himself more than willing to surrender.

Alkar breaks the kiss, lips curled into a snarl. “On your knees.”

Finn chuckles, shrugging off the angry look Alkar throws him as he splays his hand upon his chest and shoves him back so he can stand. He grips the weighty collar of Alkar’s medal-laden jacket and leads him to his chair, pressing him down into it with a rough push. “I’ve got a better idea,  _General_ ,” he purrs, straddling his lap. “As much as I love falling to my knees for you…”

Alkar looks up at him with a sort of naked wonder before his expression snaps back into that scowl, but his wandering hands tell Finn he’s just as desperate to rekindle their little affair as he is.

“You’ll pay for this, Lightwood,” Alkar growls, tearing open Finn’s shirt and dragging his hands down,  _down_ , deft fingers undoing his torn trousers. He palms him through the thin, straining fabric of his briefs, humming his delight as he traces the hard line of his cock.

Finn hisses through clenched teeth, the feel of those warm hands upon him again invigorating,  _thrilling_. He may be the subordinate, but he has the general in the palm of his hands, and he’d gladly beat as many of the General’s men into a bloody pulp as he could if it meant he’d end up here.

He makes quick work of pudhung Alka’s heavy jacket off his shoulders, uncaring as he lets the expensive thing flutter to the ground before he’s slanting their mouths together, blindly undoing Alkar’s trousers and taking him in his hand, stroking once, twice, eliciting the most delicious,  _deep_  groan of approval that rocks him to his core, the impatient rut of their hips sending his thoughts skittering like wildfire. 

Alkar’s defined muscles bunch and loosen, his torso littered with scars that rival Finn’s own, and he idly thinks how he’d love to trace every single one of them with his tongue. He’s beautiful in a disarming way, power practically radiating off him in exciting waves, in a way that would have Finn dropping to his knees again with just a few simple words.

Alkar leans in to capture his mouth, and Finn hungrily swallows the demanding thrust of his tongue, Alkar’s hands gripping his ass, pulling him closer, their cocks brushing as Finn starts to roll his hips, the friction of it coupled with the  _slick_  glide enough to have him whispering the General’s name like a prayer as he pulls away.

Huge hands spans the width of Finn’s back, calloused fingertips stroking up and down his spine as Alkar sinks his teeth into his shoulder, sucking away the sting in the next breath.

Each frantic rut of their hips had him seeing stars, that coupled with the insistent press of greedy fingers and kiss-reddened lips had him close already. He reached down to rake blunt nails over that perfect chest, making Alkar buck beneath him, the chair creaking loudly in time with their impatient movements.

He feels a little unhinged, and a  _lot_  wild as he grips the back of the chair, arching his back as heat pools in the pit of his stomach, both of them panting like they’d just done ten laps of the training field.  

”I wanted to fuck you, but you’ve gotten me so close already,” Alkar groans, voice wrecked, raspy, and edging on annoyed. He reaches up and tangles his fingers in Finn’s messy raven locks, tugging his head back  _hard_  to expose the column of his throat, flattening his tongue upon sweat-slick skin and licking a wet stripe from his collarbone to the base of his sharp jaw.

Finn whimpers, shocking himself at how needy he sounds, completely at this man’s mercy, observing Alkar’s reddened cheeks and lips that are slick, kissed red-raw. 

“I’m… _fuck_ ,” Alkar choked, fingers digging into the hard lines of Finn’s back, encouraging him to thrust harder, their erratic movements sending him hurtling over the edge, the slick,  _slick_  glide of their cocks turning him wild, every breath laboured, every rut of their hips chased with a shout.

The look on Alkar’s face as Finn shudders and spills over him is a mix between wonder and disgust, quickly replaced with pure bliss as his beautiful features twist, his orgasm hitting him full-force. “Yes,” Finn purrs cupping his hand to the curve of his skull, chestnut locks snarling about his fingers. “ _Yes_.”

Alkar’s thighs quiver beneath him, and he braces himself with a hand pressed against Finn’s chest, eyes clenched closed as he cries out, painting stripes across Finn’s chest. He lets out a long, drawn-out moan and reaches between them, wrapping his big fist around both of their cocks and he  _squeezes_ just shy of too tight, both of them hissing.

“Lightwood,” he says, the word rumbling, Finn feeling it deep,  _deep_  in his chest. Alkar swipes his thumb over the crown of their cocks, smirking as Finn cries out, sending him crashing, white-hot pleasure mingled with a hint of pain sparking through him. “You better clean that up.”

Finn snarls as he removes himself from Alkar’s lap, and he dutifully drops to his knees for his General.


	296. Julian x m!Apprentice 123.

He lowers his book, attempting to study Julian without him noticing, irrational thoughts crossing his mind after Julian had revealed the extent of his relationship with Asra.

Asra was beautiful, smart,  _charming,_ and although Julian had done nothing to indicate that he could ever be capable of causing him any heartbreak, the thought still bugged him.

Julian catches him staring and cups his hands around his coffee, quirking an eyebrow and offering him a crooked grin. “See something you like?”

He huffs a laugh, but he fails to make it sound genuine, and Julian is infuriatingly intuitive as always and notices his apprehension, brows furrowed as he makes his way over to sit beside him. He places a cool hand upon his knee and leans in close. “Are you okay? You look… concerned? I mean I know we have a lot to be concerned about in general, but you just look awfully sa—“

“Julian!” He interrupts, before the man begins another of his dreaded rambling sessions. “I… I’ve just been thinking about uhh, well you and Asra. What you said about what he was to you has just stuck in my mind.”

Julian looks at him, his pretty silver eye vacant, face unreadable as he processes what he’s just been told.

“Look, I know that you said it’s in the past, and it was… messy, but I can’t help but feel a little inferior.”

Julian grabs him about the shoulders and holds him tight, fingers digging in as he leans forward, catching and holding his gaze. “I love you, and  _only you_. Understand?”

He clears his throat, shocked by the sudden intensity in that sparkling silver eye. “Uhm, yes. Yes I understand. Look, Julian it’s not that I do—“

Julian places a long finger over his lips and shakes his head, his frown deepening. “You, and only you. What Asra and I had, or what I remember of it, was a fleeting, mess of a thing, and we were too young and too stupid to see how toxic it was for both of us. What you and I have is real, and I wouldn’t change that for the world.”

He feels himself relaxing, Julian’s words doing the trick, washing away his worries. Julian smiles, loosening his grip on his arms, and reaches down to lace their fingers together, bringing his hand up to his lips and pressing a kiss to his palm. “You, and only you, my love. Always.”


	297. Finn x Alkar 12.

Finn had turned into a junkie, itching for the attention of his General, and he was desperate for a fix.

Little thought had gone into this particular plan, and as he rounded the corner, the door to Alkar’s quarters in sight, it was like he snapped out of a haze and realised what the  _fuck_  he’d gotten himself into.

_Think fast._

The door was flanked by two disinterested guards, both of them looking like they were about to nod off at any moment. Finn didn’t recognise them, so he figured they wouldn’t recognise him either, and he straightened his jacket and strided up to them with purpose, making himself look tall, important. “Step aside, gentlemen, I have an urgent missive to deliver to the General.”

They glanced at one another, then back at him, taking in his uniform and dutifully stepping aside with a nod.  _Idiots_.

“I might be in there a while, don’t concern yourselves.”

He smirked as he quietly opened the door, sliding into the dark room. He’d been here before, but it was never enough, he needed  _more_. Always.

He tiptoed around to Alkar’s side of the bed, smiling to himself when he laid eyes on his naked form, the sheets pooled around his calves. He reached out, all reason out of the window as he tenderly brushed a stray lock of hair from his forehead.

Before he could even contemplate his next move, he was being grabbed, flipped, and  _pinned_ , a dagger pressed dangerously close to his jugular, the blade scratching at his skin. He opened his eyes to find Alkar above him, crimson eyes glistening in the darkness, unblinking. “I don’t like being snuck up on.”

Finn twisted, struggling to get free even though he was thrilled with his current predicament, the hard lines of Alkar’s body warm against him. Alkar edged the blade a little closer, Finn groaning as it nicked his throat. “I can see that.”

Alkar tossed the dagger across the room, the blade noisily clattering on the wooden floor. He gripped Finn’s chin, drawing his face towards him, and Finn couldn’t help but to arch against him, heat and  _fear_  unspooling inside him. He was already hard, his erection pressing insistently against Alkar’s abdomen.

“General,” he murmured, the rest of his sentence lost as Alkar reached down and pushed up his shirt, his jacket falling open. The rough rasp of sword-calloused fingers raking over his chest made him hiss, hips bucking up against the naked man. Alkar chuckled, a deep rumble in his chest as he popped open Finn’s trousers. One rough touch, a  _slick_  glide of his fist, and Finn was panting for him, fingers desperately clawing at the sheets.

“Turn around and get on your knees,” Alkar growled, leaning back so Finn could crawl from under him. Finn was holding onto the headboard quick as a shot, back arched as he threw Alkar a glance over his shoulder, practically begging him to get on with it. He couldn’t ever remember being this  _hard_ , an incessant ache thick between his thighs. He reached down and gripped his cock, stroking himself as Alkar edged closer.

The General’s presence eclipsed everything else, and being close to him was like willingly stepping into an inferno, all-consuming and burning hot, hot,  _hot_.

He moaned as Alkar gripped his hip with one big hand, fingers digging in, bruising. Finn spread his thighs wide in welcome, restless, so  _fucking_  hard it was surely a crime. “Please…”

Alkar’s fierce expression didn’t soften as he covered him, the tip of his cock pressing at Finn’s entrance as he leaned in to brush his lips across Finn’s jaw. “You better hold on tighter than that,” he grinned, nodding at the headboard.

Finn shuddered, practically crawling out of his skin with need as Alkar presses inside in a slick,  _slick_  glide, filling him to the brim with an expert roll of his hips.

They moaned together, low and broken and  _raw_  as Alkar held a punishing pace, pushing deeper with every stroke. Finn felt feverish, insane, whining low in his throat as Alkar surged forward again to slick their tongues together, breath passing between them in desperate little pants.

Finn felt drunk,  _intoxicated_  and definitely lightheaded, idly wondering if he could die from being  _this_  turned on. There were worse ways to go, he supposed.

“Say my name,” Alkar murmured, greedily mouthing down the column of Finn’s throat as he rocked inside him, the headboard clattering loudly against the wall with each push and pull.

“Alkar,” Finn smirked, laughing as Alkar grabbed a fistful of messy raven hair, tugging his head back roughly, pressing his lips to his ear.

“No. Say my  _name_.”

“Alkar.”

Alkar twisted his grip, yanking brutally hard, Finn crying out, keening like a desperate, dying animal. “If you think doing that will get me to oblige you’re  _wrong_ ,” he groaned.

“So stubborn,” Alkar hissed, sinking his teeth into the meat of Finn’s shoulder in some kind of primal claim. “I’m going to…  _unh_ …”

Alkar swatted Finn’s hand away, replacing his grip with his own and stroking him in time with his now-erratic thrusts, Finn nearly buckling from the force of it, his head lulling forward as he slamming himself back against Alkar with a choked-off cry.

He rode each violent thrust like a pro, crying out as he spilled out over Alkar’s fingers, coating the sheets, Alkar continuing to stroke him through the aftershocks as he chased his own finish, Finn turning to slant their mouths together, Alkar closing his teeth over his bottom lip.

Finally, Alkar gave a wordless shout as his orgasm rolled over him, his fingers twisting and yanking dark hair again as he filled Finn up. “Fuck, fuck,  _fuck_.”

Finn collapsed amongst the soft sheets, still shuddering, feeling manic as a laugh bubbled up and out of kiss-bitten lips. Alkar flopped down beside him, panting, skin slick with sweat as he raked his hands through messy hair. Finn caught his breath and moved to sit up, but a firm hand shot out to grip his arm.

“Ah, ah. I’m not done with you. If you think that’s all I’ve got, you’re  _sorely_  mistaken.”


	298. Finn x Ezra 6.

Finn ties the bedsheet around his waist as he descends the staircase, walking into the kitchen with a yawn and spotting Ezra pottering about in the kitchen. He can’t help but smile at his bedhead and bleary emerald eyes, still breathtakingly beautiful even in this rare moment of disarray.

He’s clad only in his briefs as he boils the kettle on the stove, tapping his fingers on the worktop and humming quietly to himself. Finn finds himself staring dreamily, and decides he can no longer leave him in peace, quietly sneaking up behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist, chin pressed upon his shoulder.

Ezra jumps slightly, but quickly relaxes, sinking back against him almost unconsciously. “Can I help you?” He says, poorly attempting to stifle a smile as Finn yawns against his neck.

“I can think of many ways you can, actually,” Finn purrs, fingers toying with the waistband of his boxers, lips finding the column of his throat and peppering it with kisses. “You smell divine, like sleep and sunshine and  _sex._ ”

Ezra clears his throat, a dark blush creeping over his cheeks, trailing up, up to kiss the tips of his ears. He twists in Finn’s grip, facing him and looking up at him through long, dark lashes as he wraps his arms around Finn’s neck. “Well that would be  _your_ fault now, wouldn’t it?”

Finn bites his bottom lip, memories of last night floating through his mind, Ezra beautiful and breathless beneath him. He feels that spark igniting deep in the pit of his stomach as he pushes Ezra back against the counter, leaning in to run his nose along his jawline, humming contentedly as Ezra’s breath catches in his throat. “I want you. Again and again and  _again._ ”

Ezra huffs a laugh, but it’s decidedly breathless, his iron-clad resolve slipping as Finn dips his hands beneath his waistband and cups the perfect curve of his ass, tugging him close, hips flush. “We’ll wake the others, and I have to make breakfast,” he whispers, head tipped back as Finn pays further attention to his throat.

“Then we’ll wake them, I’m sure they won’t mind.” He grabs Ezra’s thighs and lifts him up onto the counter, hissing as Ezra reaches down and palms him through the thin sheet, spreading his legs in welcome as Finn steps between them, his hands splayed upon bare thighs.

Ezra grabs his chin, reeling him in with a crooked smile before he catches his lips in a kiss. It’s soft, sensual, his lips pliant against Finn’s. “I don’t think we can go one day without you managing to thoroughly distract me, Finnegan,” he sighs, pressing another quick kiss to the corner of his mouth.

He carefully drags Ezra’s boxers off, balling them up and throwing them over his shoulder, Ezra shaking his head incredulously. “Won’t be needing those,” Finn winks, dragging him right to the edge of the counter and littering his chest with kisses, down,  _down_ to his abdomen, then lower still.

Ezra’s hands wind into messy raven hair as Finn takes him in his mouth, laving his tongue around the crown, greedily humming as his sinks lower, taking him in right down to the root. Ezra whimpers loudly, quickly covering his mouth with his free hand to stifle the noise, but Finn reaches up and tears it away, shaking his head as he catches his blown-black gaze.

Ezra’s perfect face is twisted with pleasure, lip bitten and eyes hooded as Finn works his magic, unable to resist reaching beneath the low-slung sheet to touch himself. Ezra groans at the sight of it, his fingers scratching at Finn’s scalp, tugging him gently, encouraging his movements. “ _Finnegan_ …”

Finn knows that breathless cue all too well, smiling as he picks up his rhythm, greedily swallowing every drop as Ezra comes, hot and salt-sweet upon his tongue, his legs trembling, fingers tight,  _tight_ in his hair. Ezra scrambles to pull him closer, quickly pushing his hand beneath the sheet to replace Finn’s, swiftly stroking him to completion, slanting their mouths together in a hungry kiss, tasting himself on Finn’s tongue as he gratefully swallows Finn’s broken whimper.

“Oh.  _Fuck,_ ” Finn laughs, head falling forward against Ezra’s chest as he catches his breath, purring like a cat as Ezra traces his spine with talented fingers. “ _Good_ morning.”

Ezra takes his face in his hands, so gentle Finn can hardly stand it. “You’re the devil, do you know that?”


	299. Asra x Julian 38.

He was on his knees, submitting beautifully and looking up at Asra like he was willing to lay his life on the line for him, those mismatched eyes making Asra’s heart ache, the red of his sclera deeper today.

Asra reached out and snarled his fingers amongst those fiery red curls, tugging lightly and relishing in the soft keening noise that Julian made, the flush that flooded his cheeks darkening with each of his laboured breaths.

Asra knelt before him, studying him intently, trying to figure him out, hoping more than anything that this spell would work. “Ilya, do you trust me? I want to help you.”

Julian nodded slowly, silver eyes hooded, dilated, his lips parted on a breath as he gazed at him adoringly. Asra shuddered, feeling utterly exposed, and completely enthralled by his supplication, it was always invigorating seeing him like this, and he pondered letting the spell wait, taking a quick detour to explore him one last time.

Asra tightened his grip on his hair, dragging his face close to his own, their noses brushing. He hummed, basking in the unusual warmth that was radiating off Julian, his fever worsening. He swallowed thickly, pushing any thoughts of the plague to the back of his mind. “Can I kiss you?”

Julian’s lips were on his own before he could even blink, soft and pliant as their tongues tangled together slick, hot, and a little desperate. Asra crawled forward, pressing Julian down onto the cold, stone floor and covering him, grabbing his wrists and pinning them to his side. “Ilya,” he purred, breaking this kiss to turn his attentions to Julian’s throat, pressing his lips to his hammering pulse and sucking a bruise there, then another, and another until his skin was littered with purpling marks.

He sat back to admire his handiwork, biting his bottom lip at the sight of it, Julian debauched and claimed beneath him. Mine, mine,  _mine_.

He would miss seeing his skin looking like that, the starkness of the bruises against that pretty pale skin was delightful. The impatient writhe of Julian’s hips snapped him out of his little daze, and he released his grip on his wrists, curling his fingers around his throat instead.

“Again, do you trust me? I need you to say it.”

“With my life, with everything I have.”

He still stared at Asra like he was a deity, a naked wonder in his eyes that Asra couldn’t seem to look away from. Asra smiled softly, brushing a stray curl behind Julian’s ear. He felt tears pooling in his eyes, tears he would never allow to fall as he came to terms with what he was about to do. Julian pushed his hands up Asra’s thighs, the soft rasp of long fingers brushing against the fabric of his trousers making him shiver. “Ilya, I…”

Julian cupped a hand to his face, stroking his thumb over his cheekbone in the most tender of touches. “You don’t have to say anything. I’ve made my choice.”

Asra nodded and curled his fingers around Julian’s throat, white hair rising in a halo around him as his magic surfaced, his fingertips tingling as he began to quietly whisper the words of the ancient spell.

Julian exhaled sharply at the sight of it, and splayed his palm upon Asra’s chest, over the brightly glowing mark that was placed just above where his heart should be. “Beautiful,” he whispered, and then he closed his eyes, a stray tear trailing down his cheek.

_Forget_


	300. Alkar x Lucio 3.

Alkar was panting,  _gasping_  for breath as he skidded around the corner, leaving dust swirling in his wake. He pressed close against the wall, legs shaking from the effort of running for that long.

He could hear the all-too familiar clatter of the palace guards armour in the distance, listening carefully to judge if it was growing nearer, or if they’d finally given up and retreated.

When satisfied that he was safe, he slid down the wall, hitting the ground with a thud as he reached up to remove his bandana, pushing his fingers through sweat-slick hair and contemplating his next move. Going to the palace again was too risky now he’d been caught, but his thirst definitely hadn’t been quenched, and he wasn’t one to give up quite so easily.

He stood, brushed himself off and headed towards the hidden gate that was nestled near the maze, knowing these grounds like the back of his hand. As he rounded the corner he came face to face with the object of his desire, landing against his chest with a thud.

”What the fu—“

Lucio quickly had his hand around his throat, claws curled and digging in, nicking his skin. “Are you trying to get arrested you complete moron?”

Alkar smirked and offered him a nonchalant shrug, hissing as Lucio tightened his grip, reaching up and scrambling to grab his golden wrist in an attempt to free himself.

Lucio offered him a devious grin, and his traitorous heart skipped a beat as the Count leaned in  _close_. “You’re  _pathetic._  It’s sad how obsessed with me you are, a filthy thief thinking he can come and go in my palace whenever he pleases?” He curled his lip, teeth bared as he pressed ever closer, their chests seamed tight. “Dream on.”

”Well I do manage to com—“

Lucio growled, cheeks blooming red as he surged closer, looking thoroughly kissed off as Alkar laughed. Lucio released him, stepping back and crinkling his nose as he looked down at his dusty suit. “Ugh.”

Alkar rubbed his throat, his hand coming away bloody. He caught and held Lucio’s gaze as he licked his fingers clean, the Count trying his hardest to look disgusted, but he was unable to hide the hint of curiosity that sparkled in his silver eyes.

”There’s a groundskeepers cottage just around the corner,” Alkar sighed, stretching out his tired limbs before walking towards the clearing where the cottage lay.

He turned and threw Lucio an incredulous glance, finding him still standing there, dumbfounded. “Well, are you coming?”

Lucio looked furious, opening his mouth, a scathing comment surely on the tip of his tongue until Alkar groaned loudly. “You’re either coming, or you’re not. I’m just going to… yeah,” he said, carrying on his way and waving over his shoulder dismissively.

He couldn’t help but smile as he heard Lucio beginning to follow him, muttering a string of incoherent curses under his breath.


	301. Julian x m!Apprentice 124.

He sits and waits, simply observing Julian in his mania as he stares at his reflection, fingers pressed to his cheek, pulling down the skin to study the crimson that surrounds that pretty silver eye.

“I almost don’t recognise myself like this,” Julian whispers. He drops his hand and clenches his fist, closing his eyes and turning away, his back to the mirror. “I feel… lost.”

Finn sees his bottom lip quiver, hears his voice waver, spots a tear trailing his cheek, and he’s in front of him before Julian has the chance to flee. He grips him by the shoulders, edging on too-tight but this is what he needs. He  _needs_  to feel, to be present and aware.

“Listen to me. You have every right to be upset, you’ve been through so much. There’s no shame in it.” Finn reaches up to catch another falling tear, wiping it away with a gentle sweep of his thumb, his touch lingering as he cups his hand to his face. “You’re beautiful, and brave, and not alone.”

Finn can almost see the war that brews within him easing thanks to the simple touch of his hand, Julian unconsciously leaning into his palm, relaxing his balled fists.

He finds comfort in closeness, in being touched and  _loved_. It’s so simple, Finn thinks, smiling to himself as Julian takes a deep breath, eyes finally fluttering open, letting him see him.

“Hello,” he smirks, laughing lightly at the beginning of a smile that curls at the corners of Julian’s lips. Julian lets him take his hand, lets him lead him to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Thank you,” Julian mumbles, placing his head upon Finn’s shoulder, winding his arms around his waist. He sighs softly as Finn strokes his hair, forgetting about the eyepatch that’s slung over the lampshade.


	302. Asra x f!Apprentice 26.

They sit on the dock together, the water lapping gently below their dangling feet as they watch the sky change from orange, to purple, to black.

“Beautiful,” she smiles, the sun finally disappearing behind that mysterious little island that sits upon the horizon.

Asra turns to face her, reaching out to lace their fingers together, her gaze still fixed on that unremarkable, yet strangely enthralling piece of land. “You like it here, don’t you?”

“I really do,” she grins, squeezing his hand. “It’s ours,  _our_  little spot, a reprieve from all that madness in the city.”

_Ours._

His heart flutters in his chest, his eyes slipping from hers to study the way their fingers fit together. “Yes, ours.” He clears his throat, cheeks flushed, and he’s definitely starting to sweat, so  _silly_  to feel this sick because of three little words. “I’m… I need…”

“Are you okay?”

He huffs a laugh, cheeks growing hotter, feeling utterly ridiculous at how cowardly he’s being. He finally looks up, violet locking with sky-blue as he meets her gaze, and then he knows.

_It’s time._

“Aurora, I love you. I’ve loved you since the moment you stumbled into my booth all those years ago, and it’s taken me too long to tell you. I won’t go another second without you knowing.

She doesn’t flinch, staring, a light breeze sending strands of white-blonde hair swirling about her cheeks.

“I… I want a future with you,” he says, the words breaking, catching in his throat..

She doesn’t speak, instead presenting her response with a kiss as she presses her lips against his, and as she pulls away he  _misses_  her. “I love you too, Asra. So much, it’s… it’s like a madness,” she laughs, and he can’t help but join her. “I almost can’t believe you’re mine.”

“Yours,” he nods, taking her face in his hands as she splays her palm upon his chest, his heart pounding beneath her fingertips. He reels her in for another kiss, this one far more desperate than the last, and they’re both left panting when they break apart, a whispered, “take me home,” passing between them, and he can’t seem to refuse.

________

The moment the shop door clicks shut behind them they’re tearing at one another’s clothes, leaving a trail of forgotten fabric littering the floor, the stairs.

Asra lays her down upon the mattress. “My love,” he whispers, Aurora kissing him to swallow the words, taking him in her hand, stroking carefully. His hips stutter up into her curled fist, and he nips her throat, licking away the sting as she guides him to her entrance.

He drags his hand down over her ribs, stomach, waist, hips, finding every dip and curve, committing it all to memory. “You are so beautiful,” he whispers, catching her whimper with a kiss as he pushes inside, _tight, hot, wet,_ her fingers gripping his shoulders.

He watches the subtle way she moves beneath him, the soft sway of her breasts as he pulls back, starting to find his rhythm. Her bottom lip is tugged between her teeth, lashes a dark smudge upon flushed cheeks as his hands move over her frantically, unable to get enough.

She winds her arms around his neck, their foreheads pressed together, and they both smile as they match each other stroke for stroke, her hips rising to meet his. “Yes,” she purrs, lips parted, so gorgeous that it should surely be a crime.

He focuses on her, and only her, on the way she sounds, feels, _looks_ , the way she loves him, and how he loves her in return.

Three words he’d been needlessly holding in for so long, feeling that love running bone-deep, flowing through his veins.

He leans in, her name on his lips, vowing to never let her go, and he is  _loved._


	303. Julian x m!Apprentice 125.

“Put it on. _Please_ , Julian.” 

Julian crinkles his nose in disgust, scoffing loudly and folding his arms across his chest like a petulant child as Finn waves the coat at him. “I am  _not_ wearing that. What’s wrong with this one anyway?” He moans, gesturing at the long, ratty thing he’s currently wearing. 

The hem is frayed, as are the sleeves, and the once vivid red lining is stained with all sorts of unsightly things Finn doesn’t really want to think about. 

“I just want to wash it, I promise you can have it back if it means so much to you, but you aren’t a fugitive anymore. Come on, please, please, _please_ ,” he pouts, fluttering his eyelashes and trying his very hardest to be impossible to say no to. 

“What do I get if I wear it?” 

Finn quirks an eyebrow. “What do you… are you serious? I’m asking you to take off a filthy coat that’s seen better days,  _way_  better days, and you’re asking me what you ‘ _get_ ’?” 

He can’t help but laugh as Julian (finally) removes the coat, lovingly draping it over his lap as he takes a seat. He stares down at it wistfully, stroking the snagged material, and Finn is pretty sure he’s never even touched _him_  like that. 

“We’ve been through a lot together,” Julian sighs, glaring up at Finn through long lashes as if he’d murdered his sister. “I just… like the length. It  _flows_  well, you know?” 

Finn rolls his eyes, carefully approaching him, hands where he can see them as Julian clutches the coat, and places a kiss to the crown of his head. “You’re impossible. Now, give me the fucking coat.” 


	304. Asra x Julian 39.

Asra knows Julian likes to talk, but add a few salty bitters to the mix and he just doesn’t shut the  _hell_ up.

“And another thing, those shoes that she wears, have you seen them? I mean… my dear old Bubbe had better style than her and she was  _blind_.”

He throws his head back, letting out a loud and extremely unfortunate laugh, Asra wincing as all eyes in the bar land upon them. He grips Julian’s arm and waves off the barmaid who was impatiently waiting to take their order. “Ilya,” he hisses, throwing her an apologetic smile. “Ilya, you’re such a bitch. Just… let’s  _go_.”

He tightens his grip, giving Julian’s sleeve a firm tug and heading for the door, Julian protesting loudly behind him. More than a few of the patrons wave him off, his dramatics clearly popular with the locals.

As the fresh air hits them Julian sighs loudly, scrambling free of Asra’s grip and straightening his jacket. “Spoilsport.”

” _Spoilsp_ — ugh. Come on, let’s get you home,” Asra groans, rolling his eyes as Julian drapes a long arm over his shoulder, leaning his entire weight on him. “Ilya, you’re  _heavy_.”

Julian scoffs, tugging him tight against his side, Asra having no choice but to wind his arm around his waist, lest he fall over. “Heavy, he says. I’m lean, well-built,  _tall_. What’s heavy about me? Nothing, that’s what.”

He quickly stumbles in front of Asra, planting his hands upon his chest to stop him in his tracks, leaning down to catch his gaze, unfocused silver eyes sparkling in the moonlight. “Asra, have I ever told you how utterly devastating you are? I mean… you’re quite beautiful, you know. The hair, the eyes, the mysterious aloofness, it’s quite the package,” he grins, pointing at him for dramatic effect.

Asra tries to keep his scowl fixed firmly in place, but even in this deplorable state the doctor manages to be infuriatingly charming somehow, his words genuine, and his touch gentle as he reaches out to brush his thumb over Asra’s bottom lip.

“ _Home_ , now. Move along,” he chuckles, trying, and failing to step around him and his long limbs.

Julian smiles, and for a second that’s all Asra can see, that is until he opens his giant mouth and starts serenading him, the awful noise echoing in the silent street as he grabs Asra’s hand and forces him into an inelegant twirl, catching him against his broad chest.

”Are you going to put me to bed?” He mumbles, wagging his eyebrows in a ridiculous and definitely suggestive manner.

Asra sighs loudly, wanting to say no, wanting to  _not_ end up falling willingly into his arms, but he’d be lying.


	305. Julian x m!Apprentice 126.

Siren x Pirate AU. 

* * *

Julian can’t breathe when he hears it, the deck falling silent, the only noise the dull creak of carefully shifting wood and the steady lap of waves against the side of the ship.

His hand is raised; a warning for the crew to maintain this silence as he tries to suss out which direction the song is coming from.

That’s when he sees him, a pair of glowing golden eyes shining on a rock that juts out of the ocean like a dagger, a quick flash of white teeth before he disappears, the pealing sound of sing-song laughter echoing around them.

They all tell him he’s mad, begging him not to go, not to head towards certain death, but his curiosity gets the better of him as he carefully manoeuvres the row boat between the jagged rocks, the unrelenting darkness that surrounds him sending a chill down his spine.

“You should have listened to them.”

Julian jumps, almost losing an ore at the sound of that perfect voice, quickly scrambling to hold up his lamp, illuminating the creature that grasps the side of his boat. “It is you,” Julian stutters, his voice a mere whisper,  _wrecked_  as he finally lays eyes upon him.

He’s just as beautiful as he remembers, hair as black at the darkest depths of the ocean, and glowing, golden eyes that almost stare right through him. He offers Julian a smile, the perfect row of sharp fangs terrifying, yet strangely not at all. “The Captain returns, just as he said he would.”

Julian nods slowly, edging closer,  _needing_ to be near him, feeling that unrelenting pull that he knows is a spell, one that will only bring him pain and death, but he can’t seem to care. “I had to see you again. Even if… if…”

The siren tilts his head, his movements stuttering, inherently inhuman. “Even if I kill you?” He laughs, making a show of pressing a clawed hand to Julian’s thigh, the rasp of fabric against lightly scaled skin driving him insane.

He’d been touch by this siren before, and yet he’d spared his life. He may not be so lucky this time, and he’d happily accept his fate. “Yes. Even if you kill me.”

His pointed tongue flicks out, tracing his lips enticingly as he gazes up into Julian’s single silver eye. “Humans are so… strange,” he sighs, shaking his head almost incredulously. “Come into the water, Captain,” he grins, flashing those teeth, “ _please_.”

Julian shirks his coat, his boots, left only in his trousers and thin undershirt as he climbs into the ocean without a moments hesitation, the water cold,  _freezing_ , his breath catching in his lungs. He feels sand beneath his feet, the water lapping gently about his chest.

The creature gazes up at him, reaching out to trace the jutting line of his collarbone with a sharp claw, humming curiously as Julian shivers beneath his touch. “So…  _reactive_ ,” he says approvingly, tugging his bottom lip between his fangs, those eyes sweeping over Julian like a caress, greedily taking him in. “Lovely.”

Julian groans, tipping his head back,  _submitting_  as the creature curls those long fingers around his throat, swimming closer, their chests seamed tight. He’s warm, impossibly so, and Julian melts against him, supplicant, his body practically screaming yours, yours,  _yours_. “P-please…”

The creature leans in and runs his nose along the sharp line of his jaw, inhaling him, a noise akin to a growl rumbling deep in his chest. “You’re  _delicious_ ,” he purrs, tongue flicking out to taste the salt on his skin. He makes a strange, otherworldly cooing sound, and Julian smiles, relishing in his presence, transfixed.

Their noses brush as the creature grabs his chin and reels him, their gazes locking. He’s utterly devastating,  _deadly_ , and Julian muses that if this is how he’s going to go, what a beautiful death it’ll be.

 


	306. Julian x m!Apprentice 127.

 

He can feel dread pooling low in his gut, spiraling and  _messy_  as it washes over him, everything happening in slow motion as Finn valiantly steps in front of his would-be attacker. 

There’s a sound he can’t quite describe as the steel blade drives deep, the thief’s eyes wide when he realises what he’s done, turning and running for his life like the deplorable coward he is. If they’d had a chance, they’d have bested him.  

Finn staggers forward, bent at the middle as he curls his fingers around the handle of the dagger, slick and slippery with blood where it sticks out of his gut. Julian snaps himself out of his daze and hurries to catch him as he crumbles to the ground, Finn’s knees meeting the cold cobblestones with a  _crunch._  

“Finnegan!” Julian doesn’t hesitate to tear off his gloves, quickly ripping at Finn’s already ruined shirt, pushing it aside to see the extent of the damage. The blade has gone deep,  _deep,_ and before he’s even pressed his hands over the wound he can feel the pain looming, searing and imminent. 

Finn wheezes, coughing, the sound wet and  _terrifying_ , and he stubbornly tries to swat him away. “No,  _no_! I don’t want to see you hurt.” 

Julian huffs a shaky laugh, overpowering him easily for once as he grabs his wrists in one hand and holds them still. “Stop.  _Stop_! You absolute idiot, you’ll die, and I can’t allow that,” he hisses, trying to stay cool, calm, not letting his emotions rule him. “This will only hurt for a moment.” 

Finn groans loudly, pressing his head back against the cobblestones, eyes closed tight as Julian grips the handle and  _pulls,_ blood spilling fast and furious, and Julian quickly presses those healing hands over his stomach, closing his eyes and welcoming the burn of the mark upon the sharp edge of his throat, pulling the hurt away with a few simple, seady breaths. 

He falls back, crimson blooming upon his own shirt, and he laughs, _thankful_  for this wretched curse, for it saving the man he loves. He whispers a thank you to the stars, to _Asra_ , his vision blurry as Finn gathers himself and crawls towards him, carefully cradling his head in his lap, stroking messy auburn curls.

“Julian, I’m sorry,” he whispers, blood drying at the corner of his mouth, his hands,  _everywhere_. He leans in, presses their foreheads together, and hold him until it passes, until he heals. 

Finn is safe, he’s whole and he’s  _here,_ and that’s all that matters. 

Julian winces as the pain slowly ebbs and fades, reaching up to press a trembling hand to Finn’s cheek, feeling the warmth beneath nearly numb fingertips, and he smiles. 


	307. Finn x Alkar 13.

The sound of the front door slamming against the wall downstairs startles Finn from his nap. He sits up, fast as lightning as he runs down the stairs, spotting Alkar pacing in the kitchen. He looks furious, angry tears streaking his cheeks, trembling hands running through messy hair.

Finn approaches him cautiously, knowing this particular dance all too well, his palms raised in a peaceful gesture. “Hey, talk to me. What happened?”

Alkar flares his nostrils, inhaling sharply before his wild,  _sad_ scarlet eyes lock with Finn’s calming gold. He opens his mouth to speak, but words clearly fail him, and he shakes his head, balling his hands into fists at his side. He looks utterly lost, and Finn wraps him up without a second thought, tugging him close against his chest, pressing his lips to his temple.

Alkar begins to calm, his breathing steadying, trembling fingers stilling as they fist the back of Finn’s shirt. Finn cups his face in his hands, forces him to look at him. “What can I do to help?  _Anything_ , tell me.”

Alkar huffs an exasperated laugh, eyes searching Finn’s face. “I need… I  _need_  you. Please,” he groans, reaching up to press his thumb to Finn’s lips, tracing the curve of them, his own lips parted in waiting. Finn’s breath catches in his throat, his want palpable, and he nods eagerly, never able to deny this man, taking his hand and leading him up the stairs.

Alkar is on him the moment the door clicks shut behind them, and Finn is pushed back against the wall, Alkar quickly finding his mouth with his own, all that pent-up anger stuttering out of him in messy waves, his lips on Finn’s just the right amount of _too much._

Finn is hard almost instantly, the feel of rough plasterboard against his back coupled with the firm press of Alkar against his chest enough to have him seeing stars. Alkar roughly shoves his shirt back off his shoulders, and Finn returns the favour, the unnecessary clothing that separates them pooling at their feet.

“Bed…” Alkar mumbles, capturing Finn’s lips again, a little desperate, and a _lot_ messy as he blindly fumbles with the buttons of Finn’s trousers with impatient fingers, his teeth nipping at his lower lip, a quick spark of welcome pain that sets Finn on fire.

“Yes.  _Bed_ ,” Finn smiles, the words muffled against his mouth, and he presses his palms flat upon Alkar’s broad chest, walking him backwards, climbing into his lap as he sinks down onto the edge of the bed, Alkar’s hands gripping Finn’s thighs.

Hungry eyes follow the line of dark hair that trails from his chest, down until it vanishes beneath the waistband of Finn’s underwear, tracing the rigid outline of his straining erection, and he looks up at him through long, dark lashes. “Lay down and do  _exactly_ as I tell you.”

There’s a teasing protest on the tip of Finn’s tongue, but the urgency in Alkar’s blown-black eyes is obvious, so he obliges dutifully, climbing off his lap and moving to spread himself out upon the crumpled sheets, lifting his hips and discarding the remainder of his clothing, baring himself to him

He lays in wait as Alkar also removes the rest of his clothes and crawls to hover above him, bare and breathtakingly  _beautiful_ , the vivid tattoo that trails his neck and torso shifting with his tensed muscles as he settles above him.

Finn won’t submit to just anyone this easily, but him and Alkar are a different beast altogether. They are inherently different, but still so similar, like two sides of a coin, both with their own jagged edges, but fitting together perfectly.

Alkar wraps his hand around Finn’s cock, Finn groaning at the perfect pressure and the experimental glide of his wrist. “ _Good_ ,” Alkar purrs, his scarred lips twitching up into a wolfish smirk as he leans in close, Finn sucking in a sharp breath as he runs his thumb over his slick, sensitive crown, kiss-reddened lips so painfully close to his own.

“Stop,” Finn begs, his voice a mere whisper as he tugs at his wrist, Alkar releasing him with a frown. Finn shakes his head, but smiles reassuringly. “Too  _good_.”

Alkar slants his mouth over Finn’s, writhing against him eagerly, both of them flushed,  _hot_. “I want to be inside you, I…  _fuck_ ,” Alkar mumbles, his mouth moving over his skin, along his jaw, his throat, biting at the flesh of his shoulder hard enough to leave a mark, immediately laving his tongue over the reddening skin.

“Then hurry up and do something about it,” Finn groans, cupping the perfect curve of his ass, hauling him in  _tight_ , the hot brand of their erections rubbing together in a slow, aching drag.

Alkar growls low and rumbling in his chest, the shock of that connection driving him wild,  _primal_ as he grabs Finn’s hips and rolls him over, kissing and biting his way down Finn’s spine, his tongue flicking out to taste the salt of his sweat-slick skin, down,  _down_  until he’s nipping at a firm buttock, fingers digging into his waist to stop him from rutting down against the mattress as he spreads him wide and begins to lick him open.

Finn emits a symphony of desperate noises he’d definitely be embarrassed about later, but in this moment he could care less, the talented curl of Alkar’s tongue sending his mind and body into overdrive as he presses his face against the pillow, fingers fisting the sheets as he clings to the delicate final threads of his sanity.

The loss of contact is stark as Alkar moves away to fumble in the nightstand. “Hey, light this?” He points at the single candle, and with a flick of Finn’s wrist it ignites, a dull, amber glow flickering over Alkar’s sharp features. “I want to see your face when you come,” he grins, devastatingly handsome as he pops the cork on the small jar of slick he’d retrieved from the drawer, coating his fingers, his cock.

He grabs Finn around the hips and tugs him up onto his hands and knees, Finn pressing back at the first brush of Alkar’s fingers as he breaches his body with one, then two perfectly digits, infuriatingly expert in his actions. Finn looks back at him over his shoulder, his cheeks  _burning_ , sweat beading at his brow. “Are you trying to drive me mad?”

Alkar shrugs, smirking and so fucking  _cocky_  Finn can’t help but laugh. “Maybe,” he says, slowly slipping his fingers out, Finn arching his back, hissing through clenched teeth in response. Alkar brings his palms down  _hard_  on his ass, fingers digging in, pulling him flush against him and holding him in place as he positions himself at his entrance, finally pressing inside.

Pleasure burns and sizzles out from the base of Finn’s spine as he fills him up, that hot,  _hard_ drag feeling like heaven, Alkar leaning in and catching his earlobe between his teeth, tugging gently, kissing a trail down his neck as he finds a punishing rhythm.

He travels lower, sucking and biting at his slick skin as he goes, marking him,  _claiming_  him, Finn reaching back to grab Alkar’s thigh, their gazes locking, twin shit-eating grins crossing their lips. “I enjoy seeing you like this,” Alkar whispers, pressing his thumbs into the perfect divots at the base of Finn’s spine as he pushes and pulls, his eyes focused on the point where they’re joined, groaning at the sight of himself disappearing inch by perfect inch.

Finn can tell he needs this tonight; the feel of his hot,  _hard_ body beneath him, the roughness, Finn tight and eager and  _his_  for the taking, trembling around him with each laboured thrust.

He reaches down to curl his fingers tightly around Finn’s cock, his lips pressed close to his ear as he strokes him with a slick hand, slipping into a perfect, parallel rhythm with the glide of his hips, Finn rocking back against him frantically, teetering right on the edge,  _this close_  to begging him to grant him his release.

Alkar can clearly sense his urgency as he pounds into him with all of his might. “Look at me,” he rasps, Finn obliging and turning his head, the look in Alkar’s eyes swiftly sending him over the edge, coming hot and thick in Alkar’s hand, his body shaking,  _shuddering_  around him as he cries out, his face twisted in beautiful ecstasy, staring Alkar down, their locked gaze not faltering for a second. “Finn…  _fuck_ …”

Alkar holding out any longer is clearly a lost cause as Finn continues to eagerly fuck himself back against him, and Finn watches in wonder as his orgasm hits him, Alkar’s back bowed as he pins him down against the mattress with his final stuttering thrusts, buried  _deep_ , so deep it snatches the breath from Finn’s lungs as he fills him up, muffling a broken growl into the crook of his neck.

He gently rocks into Finn, chasing the feeling until he can’t bear it any longer, drawing back and hissing sharply, skin sensitive and body beautifully sated as he collapses beside an equally as wrecked Finn.

Finn smiles, cheeks rosy red, hair a beautiful mess atop his head, those obsidian locks dark against the too-white pillow, and they both laugh as Alkar rolls himself half on top of him. Finn pushes his fingers into Alkar’s hair, slicking it back, their noses brushing as they quietly come down from that seemingly infinite high.

“I love you,” Finn whispers, catching Alkar’s bottom lip between his teeth before he seams their mouths together, this kiss less urgent than the ones that came before, Alkar relaxing against him, all that tension erased.

He can’t say it back,  _won’t_ , but Finn knows.

He knows by the way he kisses him,  _touches_  him, breathes him in like a lifeline, an almost sweet, sleepy smile curling at the corners of his lips. Finn wraps him up, fingers idly tracing patterns upon his bare chest, and he hopes that any painful memories are erased, if only for a little while.


	308. Asra x Julian 40.

He can’t believe it’s finally happening, an errant wish that had lingered in the back of his mind after months of longing glances, fingertips brushing in passing, sly smiles curling on pretty lips…

And now those lips are pressed to his throat, delicate fingers pushing into his messy auburn curls, tugging just on the edge of too-tight, the witch seemingly knowing each and every little desire that Julian had tucked deep in the back of his messed up mind.

Asra pins him to the chair, legs bracketing his hips as he gently moves in his lap, the rough rasp of their trousers deafening to Julian, the thought that just those thin, unneeded scraps of fabric are the only thing that separates them maddening.

Though, he can’t do much about that with his hands tied, the rope rough where it rubs against his wrists, the wooden chair biting against his shoulder blades as Asra splays his palms upon his bared chest and pushes, offering him an impish grin, lashes dipping down, a white smudge upon the tops of tawny cheeks that never seem to flush, no matter how indecent he’s being.

Asra so gorgeous like this, above him, claiming him with his hands, his mouth a brand against the bared line of Julian’s throat, teeth nipping,  _biting_ , tugging at the supple and rapidly purpling flesh, and Julian’s chest is littered with bruises already, and he’s never felt more beautiful.

“Ilya,” Asra purrs, his weight in Julian’s lap more welcome than he’ll ever know as he braces himself on the arms of the chair, carefully sliding his trousers off, reaching down to free Julian from the confines of his briefs, the silk-soft feel of his hand upon his aching length a bloody revelation. “I’ve seen the way you look at me. You’ve wanted this for a while now, haven’t you?”

Julian bites back a groan, his head tipped back in submission, supplicant beneath him. He nods, closing his eyes tight as Asra strokes him, sending him into a full-body shudder, those slick,  _slick_ fingers unmaking him with each calculated glide. “Y-yes, more than you’ll ever know.”

“I’ve thought about it, obviously,” he shrugs, violet eyes sparkling with mischief as he pushes Julian’s shirt halfway down his shoulders with his free hand, proceeding to trace the bite marks that trail from his ribs to the edge of his jaw with a curious fingertip. “I never thought I’d give in, but I’m just so intrigued by you. You’re quite lovely.”

Julian’s hips rock helplessly up into Asra’s hand, his movements stilling. “ _Please_ , Asra,” he whimpers, desperate enough for him to put his pride aside and beg for it.

Asra laughs softly, a flash of dimples and a crinkled nose making Julian’s heart lurch in his chest, and he idly wonders how someone so beautiful, so  _soft_ , can also be so deadly. “Since you asked so nicely…”

Julian gasps as Asra slowly - so,  _so_  slowly, lowers himself onto his straining cock, his hand holding him steady as he opens his body inch by careful inch to let him inside. Julian trembles from the effort of holding himself still, stopping himself from thrusting up into that tight, slick ( _so slick_ ) heat.

Asra’s head falls forward when he’s finally fully seated, filled up to the brim, cloud-white curls falling about his face, framing those angelic features as he begins to ride him, still so effortlessly in control, fingers digging into Julian’s shoulders for leverage.

Julian is surrounded,  _engulfed_  by the tight clench of him, stuttering breaths escaping parted lips as Asra’s blunt nails break his skin, the bite of pain a welcome reprieve from the unfurling heat that swirls at the base of his spine.

His heartbeat echoes loudly in his ears, and he begins to meet Asra halfway, his hips lifting up off the chair each time Asra comes down, the wooden legs creaking and protesting beneath them. Asra takes himself in his hand, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, eyes unmoving where they focus on Julian’s pleasure-twisted features.

Julian wonders how wild he looks, hair sticking to his sweat-slick cheeks, pale skin mottled with bites and bruises and  _blood_ , a deep flush painting his cheeks and chest. He wants to laugh, feeling manic, lost in a pair of pretty eyes as he stutters towards the edge of glory, of  _bliss_. He tilts his chin, and somehow Asra understands the gesture, leaning in for a kiss, tongues eagerly sliding against each other, slick and wet and  _beautiful_  as the sinful sound of flesh and their laboured breaths fills the otherwise deathly silent library.

Asra pulls away, exhaling sharply as he strokes himself faster, his movements more precise, the lean muscles of his abdomen clenching tight,  _tight_  as he cries out, spilling himself over Julian’s chest, stomach. The sight of it is enough to make Julian whimper, wishing he could reach out and curl long fingers around Asra’s shaft, make him shudder and shake as he strokes him through it.

Asra catches his breath, a lazy smile curling at his lips as he picks up his briefly wavering pace, pushing his fingers into Julian’s hair yet again, tugging tight,  _tight_ , pulling his head back and licking a wet stripe from the hollow of his throat to the sharp edge of his jaw, humming greedily as his tastes his sweat salt-sweet on his tongue. “So good, Ilya. You feel  _so_  good.”

Pleasure rushes bright through Julian’s veins as Asra’s teeth scrape against his shoulder, biting his own lip as he finally,  _finally_  comes, Asra huffing a breathless laugh as he continues to rock gently in his lap, Julian crying out with every convulsion that ripples through him.

Colours flash bright behind his eyes, all that pent-up longing rushing out of him in a pleasure so intense he briefly wonders if he might black out, Asra’s name rolling easily off his tongue like a prayer.

Asra grips his face between his hands, pressing their mouths together in a kiss that’s almost a little tender, the fleeting sweetness of it only fuelling his irrational little crush on the witch. “Thank you, Ilya,” Asra grins, still holding him tight, brushing their noses together, the noise he makes almost akin to a purr.

Julian quickly decides that he’s a hopeless lost cause, utterly at his mercy, willing to die, to  _kill_ for him, and he smiles.


	309. Lucio x nb!Apprentice 1.

He’s pathetic, clawing at them like they’re suddenly all he sees, all he cares about.

It’s funny, because they know he truly cares about nothing other than himself, and that all of this pleading, the wide eyes and (poorly executed) soft smiles, are really all for his own benefit.

“Would you be a dear and get me a glass of water?” He purrs, fluttering pale lashes, the tiniest sliver of smudged kohl visible under his sunken, crimson and silver eyes. “I’m terribly thirsty.”

They roll their eyes, tugging themselves free from his weak grip, but they dutifully pour him a glass anyway, carefully placing it in his trembling hands, helping him lift it to his mouth to take a sip.

No matter how vile he is, how badly he treats everyone around him, they still stay, still feel that pang of affection deep in the darkest parts of their gut. They don’t know why, or how, and maybe they’re just a total sucker for the pain and suffering that comes with loving this wretched man.

He sighs loudly, nodding to signal that he’s done, and they place the half empty glass on the nightstand, standing dutifully before him, wringing their hands. “Don’t you have servants to do all of this for you?”

Lucio huffs a laugh, and it sounds painful, every breath an effort, rattling loudly in his lungs. He raises his hand to his mouth, anticipating another bout of coughing, of blood-speckling his palm.

They edge closer almost unconsciously, the unbidden desire that they have to help him infuriating. He raises his hand to hold them off and swallows loudly. “I’m… I’m fine,” he mutters, that hard mask fixed firmly back in place. “I do have servants, yes, but you’re so much more fun to have around.”

Their lip curls up into a snarl as they take a seat on the edge of the bed, their back turned from him, biting back a sarcastic retort, knowing it’s not worth it.

They want to hate him, reminding themselves of all the deplorable things he’s done,  _continues_ to do, and yet as soon as he places a cold hand upon their arm, his skinny fingers clutching them as tightly as he can muster, they love him.


	310. Julian x f!Apprentice 7.

They’re crowded together in front of the mirror, the tiny bathroom filled with steam from the bath they’d just shared, both of them squeaky clean, soft towels wrapped around bare bodies.

She nudges him gently, and his answering smile is infectious, if not a little mischievous as he stands firm in his spot, apparently unwilling to give her more room.

“I need it more than you,” she huffs, grabbing a handful of long, wet hair, trying to run her fingers through the silky strands, brushing out the knots, straining to look in the tiny corner of the mirror she can access around his big body.

“I think not, my dear. You’re perfect as you are, as always. This,” he says, pointing to the unruly mess of auburn curls atop his head, “needs work.”

She pouts, disentangling her fingers from her hair and wiggling them in his direction. “I could  _make_ you move, you know.”

Julian raises his eyebrows, huffing a laugh as he gazes down at her adoringly. “Magic? Really? You do play dirty.”

She shakes her head, squaring up to him, splaying her palms flat upon his chest and looking up at him through long lashes, as seductive as she can muster. “Not magic, something far,  _far_  dirtier than that.”

He clears his throat, cheeks blooming a deep rose in the enchanting way they so often do, and she bites her lip, tilting her head in invitation, luring him in.

“D-dirtier?”

She nods, and he groans loudly as she starts to drag her hands down his chest, stopping at his ribs. “I’ll have you screaming,  _begging_ me to stop.”

“Oh god…”

He’s hooked, and she seizes her opportunity, merciless as she flexes her digits and tickles him, relentless even as he squirms and tries to wriggle free of her assault.

He begs her to stop in-between panting breaths, his flush deepening as she persists, Julian scrambling back and pressing himself against the wall, raising his hands in surrender. “I yield!”

She laughs, winding her arms around his neck and rising up onto her tiptoes to press a kiss to the tip of his nose. “There’s a good boy.”


	311. Julian x m!Apprentice 128.

Siren x Pirate AU

* * *

The siren coos, apparently fascinated with the supplicant human before him as his hands linger upon Julian’s bare chest, and Julian just can’t help but stare at him, his beauty beyond anything he could possibly ever imagine, the vivid crimson of the scales that flash down the sides of his muscular arms shimmering with the water that surrounds them.

He can feel his tail flicking about his ankles, the silky smooth glide of it making him shudder, those claws dragging down his skin, leaving red marks in their wake. It’s maddening that he’s submitted so easily, and he idly wonders if it’s all down to the sirens song that had lured him in, or if he had given himself over to him willingly.

The latter was far more likely.

Having the creature touch him was both exhilarating and terrifying, the thought that at any moment he could get bored and take a bite,  _devour_ him a constant int the back of his mind. He was touching him with such reverence, his glowing, golden eyes gleaming, and he’s mesmerized by the way the light reflects off of them, casting Julian and the tiny section of the ocean that surrounds them in a myriad of swirling colours.

The siren is so close now that Julian can now really see each and every difference between them, the impossibly sharp teeth that gleam a threatening white, the gills that strike the sides of his throat, beautiful flowing fins that sit where his ears should be were he a human. His eyes trace the hard lines of his body, the scales that frame his ribs, every perfect muscle designed to seduce and kill.

He leans in close, running his sharp, clever tongue along Julian’s throat, tasting his salt-sweet skin and humming his approval. “You’re almost too lovely to eat.  _Almost_.”

Julian stands deathly still as he drags his claws over his ribs, his stomach,  _down_ further still, dipping beneath the water to toy with the waistband of his trousers. He tilts his head as Julian’s muscles twitch and shift beneath ghost-white skin.” Tell me your name, Captain,” he coos, his words lilting, luring him in.

Julian leans into his touch imperceptibly, gooseflesh prickling beneath the sirens fingertips. “Julian. It’s Julian.”

The creature sounds the word out carefully, and it sounds foreign on his tongue, but Julian likes it anyway. “Julian,” he grins, Julian not shying away from the flash of dagger-sharp teeth.

He stretches his body, curving against Julian, pressed close, and Julian wonders why he’s taking his time, if this is how he toys with all of his prey, or if he’s as curious about Julian as he implies that he is. He closes the gap between them, lips meeting in a hungry, crushing kiss, Julian arching against him, soft, keening noises falling from helplessly parted lips.

“I think you want this, don’t you?” he laughs, eyes sweeping down his body, focusing on the straining fabric of his trousers that cling to him indecently beneath the water, his cock hard, aching, desperate for his touch. “Now, tell me, why do you crave death?”

Julian can’t form words to respond as the siren slips his hand beneath his waistband, the rasp of his claws running through the trail of coarse, auburn curls that frame his cock making him shudder, his head lulling forward helplessly as long fingers curl around his shaft, stroking one, twice.

“Please, gods, yes…  _please._ ”

The siren watches him intently, curious as each quirk of his features twist with unbidden pleasure. He reaches up and rolls Julian’s nipple between his fingers with his free hand, smiling as he cries out, as his hips buck up into his tight grip, pushing his cock desperately into his expertly curled fist.

Julian is all too willing to let himself get lost as the siren titters softly in his ear, a purr of approval as Julian’s breath catches in his throat, his cheeks flushing hot, colour spilling like wine over his chest.

The siren grabs one of his hands and places it upon the stretch of scales that litter his ribs. “You can touch me too, right here,” he purrs, groaning as Julian obliges and brushes long fingers over the textured skin. It’s silk soft and beautiful, and as the creature brushes eagerly against him, he almost forgets that he could kill him in an instant.

“I… I get it now,” Julian rasps, the beginnings of a smile curling at the edges of his lips.

The siren tilts his head, picking up the speed of the glide of his wrist, clearly eager to watch Julian break. “What do you ‘ _get_ ’?”

Julian stares him down, breath quickening, pleasure building hot in the pit of his stomach . “If every siren is as beautiful as you, I get why so many of us are killed by your kind. I couldn’t resist you even if I tried.”

The siren squeezes his cock  _tight_ , Julian slick between his fingers. “And you haven’t tried to resist me?”

Julian stares at him, an incredulous expression plastered upon his face. “Why would I? Just… just  _look at you.”_

The siren flinches slightly as Julian reaches up to cup a gentle hand to his cheek, eventually relaxing, leaning in. His raven hair swirls about his cheeks, framing his perfect, deathly beautiful features.

Julian’s eye flutters shut, a breathy moan spilling past his lips as the siren brushes his thumb over the sensitive crown of his cock, the touch sending him spiralling, coming hard and  _hot_  in the water.

“Oh…  _beautiful_ ,” the siren whispers, wonder shining in golden eyes as he stares him down, surging forward to capture Julian’s lips in a crushing kiss.

As they part, his teeth are bared, but Julian finds it hard to be afraid, closing his eyes and baring his throat, pushing his fingers up into obsidian locks and reeling him in, urging him on.

Take me,  _please_. I am yours.


	312. Julian x f!Apprentice 8.

She stands in the clearing and spins to face him, long hair whipping about her waist, both of them breathless, her cheeks  _hot_ , brow slick with sweat.  “We have time.” 

Julian reaches up to brush a stray lock of hair behind her ear, his dark brows furrowed. “What… what are you talking about?” 

They’ve been running for what feels like an age, pushing through the palace grounds to escape the heavy clatter of armor, this particular run-in with the guards a little too close for comfort. 

She’s fed up of living like this, of trying to find stolen moments pressed against bookcases, the fleeting glances and tension driving her mad. She wants to  _feel_ , to give herself to him and never look back. 

Fugitive be damned, she _loves_  him, and she’s in this until the end. 

“We have time, so show me,” she rasps, cupping her hand to his jaw, the soft rasp of stubble beneath her fingertips. “ _Show me_ , Julian.” 

He knows exactly what she’s talking about, those little promises he keeps making, the  _teasing._ He parts his lips, his breath catching and his eye growing dark. “Here. You want…”

Excitement thrums in her blood, and she’s never wanted anything more in her life. “Yes, I  _want_.” Her voice is husky, and she dares him with a smile. “I’m donewanting. I  _need_.” 

Julian reaches for her without a second thought, but the movement is somewhat tentative, and he stares at her as though she’s a fever dream, not  _real_ , like she might slip through his fingers.

The way she feels for him is like a madness,  _raw_  and inexplicable, like magic has wound its way around her and refuses to dispel. 

His lips are as soft as she remembers as he presses in, and she’s drowning,  _melting_  against him and drinking him in like she’s parched. Julian steps close and places a big hand against the base of her spine, reeling her closer, the rigid line of his erection pressing  _hard_  against her hip, betraying his desire. 

She tugs his bottom lip between her teeth, and he moans against her mouth in response, his hips hitching, the heat between her thighs reaching a fever pitch. The kiss morphs into something different, his hands greedily mapping the curves of her body as he pulls her down into the soft grass, the evening air warm against her skin. 

He covers her, hands running up bare legs beneath her skirt, his fingers are calloused, but his touch is delicate, the perfect contrast as he travels higher, pushing the fabric up around her waist. He turns his attentions to unlacing her shirt, tugging it open, leaning in to close his mouth over her breasts, his tongue rolling over one of her nipples, the heat of his mouth chased by the shock of cool air as he moves his attentions to the other.  

His hands are  _everywhere_ , and she’s lost, thrilled with this confidence that exudes from him, fueled by each whimper and writhe that she offers as he grips her thighs, moving to carefully hook a finger in the elastic of her underwear, throwing her a questioning look. She nods, permission granted, and he pulls them down and off, exhaling sharply as he lays eyes on her, that scorching touch pushing up,  _up_.

She greedily rocks her hips into his touch, a groan breaking from parted lips as his mouth finds her breast again, the urgency of his lips setting her skin on fire. He pulls away, shirks his coat, his shirt open, chest bared, and he’s  _beautiful, all_ lean muscle and sinew beneath pale skin that’s littered with a smattering of auburn hair, a light flush that matches the colour of his cheeks spilling across the top of his chest. She reaches for his trousers, popping the buttons and pressing her hand between his thighs, Julian groaning low and desperate, the noise sending a shiver down her spine. 

“Julian…” 

He rocks into her hand, and she can’t get enough of how he feels through the thin fabric that separates them, wetness pooling at the crown of his cock, and she’s done waiting, pressing her free hand to his chest and pushing him back, sending him sprawling as she moves to straddle him, her skirt still bunched around her waist. He dutifully lifts his hips as she tugs his trousers down, his briefs too, and she starts to stroke him, no barrier between them this time. 

“Please…  _please_. I need…” 

She smiles at his broken words, removing her hand and grinding down against him, the solid length of him pressing between her legs, the  _slick_ velvet glide of it sending pulses of pleasure rocking through her, and she rolls her hips one more time, the noise he makes sweet and  _desperate._  She reaches back and seizes his cock in her hand, and he digs his fingertips into her hips, holding her steady as she sinks down, taking him in inch by perfect inch. 

_Oh._

She throws her head back, his hand splayed between her breasts as she begins to roll her hips, adjusting to that welcome stretch, the perfect  _burn_  of it enough to complete her, ending all that pent-up longing that had grown thick between them. She grips his shoulders, bracing herself as Julian strokes up into her, his grip hard around her hips, holding her tightly as he thrusts, his back arching up off the grass. 

She rides down to meet him, sparks shooting up her spine pressure building in the pit of her stomach until she’s certain she might burst, and he sees, he  _sees_  and he presses a hand between their joined bodies, resting his thumb right  _there_ , right where she needs it.

Her thighs  _ache_ , but the pleasure and the need and the electric press of that digit against the tight bundle of nerves each time she rolls down drives her on. 

Julian wraps an arm around her waist and pushes himself up, growling from the effort, or maybe from the new angle that drives him deeper, and he rubs his finger, dancing in circles, the space between them slick as he presses his lips to her throat and muffles words against warm skin. “Close, I’m  _close_.”  

That sends her reeling, his choked-off words coupled with the pressure of his finger enough to finally unmake her, her body a blazing fire, racing,  _racing_  until she explodes with a searing bliss, crying his name out against his lips. Julian gasps for breath as she cleaves around him, swiftly chasing her over the edge and coming, filling her up, his hips stuttering out their final thrusts until they’re both sated and blissed-out, clutching one another desperately as they come down from the shattering high. 

He rests his face between her breasts, presing a kiss to the place where her heart thrums quicksilver in the cage of her ribs, his hands splayed upon her back, holding her tight,  _close_.  

She tips her head back, looking up at the stars, smiling as she pushes her fingers into messy auburn hair. 

_Finally, finally, finally._


	313. Julian x m!Apprentice 129.

Julian is furious,  _terrified_ , the contrasting emotions swirling through him like a violent hurricane as he paces the tiny hut, Mazelinka doing a stellar job of ignoring him as she quietly places some seeds in a terracotta flowerpot by the window.

He should never have let him convince him to leave, should have stayed with him. It had been nearly twenty four hours already, and Finn had promised him he’d come to him by daybreak.

Something was  _wrong,_ he could feel it deep in the pit of his gut, aching and persistent, making him feel sick.

He ran through all of the terrible scenarios in his head, each one of them ending a little more dramatic than usual with him in his current state of mania. “Shit, shit,  _shit_ ,” he groans, the cursing drawing a quick glare from Mazelinka.

Just as he’s about to tug on his coat and throw all reason aside, there’s a quiet knock at the door. He stares at Mazelinka with a wide, wild silver eye as she  _slowly_  rises, slapping him gently on the cheek in passing. “Shtock, idiot boy,” she grumbles, gesturing for him to hide behind the door as she clicks the latch.

And then it’s as if his once-titled world snaps back into its axis, everything falling beautifully into place as Finn rushes inside, tired golden eyes frantically scanning for him, a grin breaking out on his too-handsome face as he spots Julian.

Julian throws himself at him, Finn catching him agaInst his broad chest, one arm around his waist, the other at his neck, fingers on his hair. “Never do that to me again, do you hear?” Julian huffs, pulling back to grab Finn’s face between his palms.

“Promise,” Finn laughs, dragging his hands down Julian’s arms, then back up to rest upon his shoulders. “Why are you so tense? I’m only a few hours late.”

Julian blinks, trying to find a reasonable answer.

_Because I’m crazy. Because it pains me to be away from you. Because…_

“Because I love you!”

He almost slams his hand over his mouth, but clearly thinks better of it, watching Finn’s lips form a perfect little ‘o’ as he processes what Julian had just confessed.

“I mean, I don’t. Uh. Shit, no, I do. I really,  _really_  do.”

Finn blinks once, twice, his fingers digging into Julian’s shoulder a little harder. “You love me? You… love… me.”

Julian bites his lip, his cheeks hot, most definitely an embarrassing shade of crimson by now. He’d imagined how this moment would play out, and it was never supposed to go like this.

“I do. I  _do_ ,” he nods, reaching up to grab both of Finn’s hands. “I… had it all planned out. It was going to be  _very_  dramatic,” he smirked, earning a laugh from Finn. “Alas… me and my big mouth. It’s okay, you don’t have t—“

“I love you too, Julian.”


	314. Asra x Julian 41.

Asra often finds himself intrigued by Julian, infuriatingly so.

He’d tried his damned hardest to stay focused on the task in hand, but his brain (and body) had other ideas.

Today it was Julian’s lips that had him transfixed, the way he purses them when he concentrates, the way his tongue flicks out  _just so_  when he’s writing, even the way they look when he offers Asra that ridiculous grin where they curled up at the edges.

Yesterday it had been his long, elegant fingers, and the memory of how  _that_ particular momentary fascination ended had Asra smiling to himself, maybe even a little hot under the collar.

He clears his throat, snapping himself from his little fantasy, and slowly makes his way to the corner of the library where Julian is currently looking for a book that’s apparently evading him. He has his hands firmly fixed upon his hips, brow furrowed, and his bottom lip delightfully tugged between his teeth.

Asra leans back against the shelving, running a finger along the dusty old spines. “Problem finding something?”

”Hmmm yes, there’s a volume on preventative medicine that I’ve been trying to find. The inventory says it’s here,  _right_ here, but…” he sighs, gesturing vaguely, “unless I’ve suddenly gone blind then…”

He continues to waffle about how he was sure Valdemar is testing him, trying to make him mad, but all Asra can do is stare longingly,  _hungrily_  at his rapidly moving lips.

He steps closer, reaching out to hook a finger into the waistband of Julian’s too-tight trousers and pulls  _hard_.

Julian stumbles forward, bracing himself with a hand against the shelving either side of Asra’s head, all six foot four of him pressed close, his breath catching, lips parted as he meets Asra’s hungry violet gaze. “H-hello…”

Asra growls, tilting his chin. “Shut up and kiss me.”


	315. Finn x Alkar x Ezra x Omen 9.

He often wonders what his life would be like without them, and always swiftly comes to the conclusion that it would  _suck_.

Today the shop is in disarray, Alkar is drunk and emotional, Omen is angry and possibly setting fire to their dinner, and Ezra is quietly seething in the corner, his face a shade of red Finn hasn’t seen before.

Finn watches from a distance for once, biding his time, waiting for the right moment to step in and attempt to quell the chaos of this shitshow.

For now, he watches it all unfold with a smile, finding it impossible  _not_  to be madly in love with them all, even at their very worst.

Ezra finally breaks, just as Finn suspected he would, reaching his boiling point as Alkar turns his pockets inside out and displays a rather impressive collection of stolen goods straight from his favourite sweet vendor. “You’re going to take those back Alkar!”

Alkar’s unfocused, crimson eyes widen, startled as Ezra squares up to him, quickly gathering the candies in his palm and holding them close to his chest as if they were a pile of gold. “Make me.”

Finn quickly steps between them, palms firmly planted against Alkar’s chest, pushing him back a step and throwing him a warning look that says,  _‘do you want him to murder you today?’_

“Okay, I think we all need to take a deep breath, yes? Alkar, go take a shower. Ezra, I think Omen might need a little help?”

Ezra and Alkar stare each other down for a moment, Alkar breaking the gaze with an ill-advised laugh as he saunters off up the stairs, strangely obeying Finn’s order.

Ezra quirks a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at him, trying his hardest not to smile. “Since when are  _you_ the mediator?”

Finn winces as he hears a crash come from the kitchen, followed by a string of barely intelligible curses. “I… don’t actually know,” he shrugs. “We might be a collective disaster, but you all make me so happy.” He pauses, crinkling his nose. “I’m feeling particularly sappy today, apparently.”

Ezra let’s the smile break out across his face and reaches up to playfully pinch Finn’s cheek. “My boy is growing up. I hate it,” he sighs, turning to follow the cursing that’s now reaching a fever pitch.

“I wouldn’t take it  _that_ far,” Finn huffs, contemplating starting a small fire, just to prove a point.


	316. Asra x f!Apprentice 27.

She’s so  _warm_ , his fingertips moving over her skin, tracing every tiny scar, the freckles that litter her shoulders like constellations. The sunlight is fading, the room utterly quiet other than the sound of their breathing, and Asra still can’t quite believe she’s  _his._

Strands of her hair curl over her shoulders, her neck, wisps of it sweeping across her cheeks. She smiles, and Asra can’t help but to move closer, eyes open so he doesn’t miss the dark smudge of her impossibly long lashes upon lightly flushed cheeks.

His mouth finds her skin, finds the place where her pulse thrums at the hollow of her throat, the place upon her shoulder where there’s a scar she can’t remember getting, fingertips moving down, down over her spine,  _lower_ , pulling her close, and somehow it’s like she’s never close enough.

There’s no space wasted between them, not when they’re like this, drowning in each other, committing every moment to memory, and making up for all the ones they’ve lost or forgotten.

Asra savours every hitch in her breath, every arch of her back as she curves against him, the unhurried movement of his hips coaxing a whisper of his name from her lips. Her hand moves up his back, fingers digging into tawny skin, the other threading through white hair, the gentle rasp of her nails against his scalp a revelation.

She tilts her chin; an invitation, waiting as he catches her lips in a kiss, swallowing another groan, the soft creak of the mattress making her smile as he inches away, watching her, his eyes blown- black and  _beautiful_.

He holds her thigh, keeps it hitched about his waist, and they fall apart together, her name falling from his lips over and over and  _over_  until there’s nothing left but the manic thrum of their hearts, beating in-sync, like they always should have been.

”I’ve waited all my life for you,” he whispers, another kiss pressed to her jaw, cheek, the corner of her mouth.

Her hand is still in his hair, on his back, tracing circles on his skin. “Yours. Always  _yours_ ,” she smiles, meaning it, knowing there never has been or never will be another.

It’s been ten years now, and he twists a lock of her hair around his finger, unwilling to disentangle himself from her, trying to decipher just how he got here, how he got this lucky, concluding that it can be only one thing.

_Magic._


	317. Asra x Julian 42.

Asra finds him curled up, knees drawn up to his chest, arms holding them tightly in place. He looks disheveled, even more so than usual, and Asra can’t help but pity him.

Asra sits in front of him, eyes quickly scanning him for injury, knowing the Count gets more than a little trigger happy with any random object he can lay his hand on if he hears something he doesn’t like, which is  _everything_. Julian looks up at him through a curtain of auburn curls, silver eyes painfully sad and drawn, and that’s when he spots it.

It’s the biggest one yet, catching him right on the forehead, just below his hairline. It’s deep and angry, oozing dark scarlet and already bruising around the edges. “Why haven’t you stitched it?”

Julian blinks slowly, swaying slightly. “Ah, well… I appear to be a little concussed. I didn’t fancy taking a needle to my face and risk ruining my dashing good looks,” he grins, but he eyes don’t sparkle in the way they usually do.

Asra makes a quiet noise, leaning a little closer, instinctively reaching out to brush his hair aside, but stopping himself when he remembers…

_He’s not yours to touch anymore._

“Can… can I touch you?”

Julian frowns, wincing as the action tugs at his wound, but he brushes it off to continue scowling at Asra. “Of course you can touch me, what kind of question is that?”

Asra drops his gaze, hands curled into fists, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “I just thought that maybe… maybe…”

Julian waits, looking paler by the minute, and Asra needs to help him before he passes out.

“It’s nothing. Here,” he whispers, heart clenching as he tucks that fallen lock of hair behind his ear in a gesture that’s all too familiar. He closes his eyes, hair rising in a halo around him as his magic surfaces, his fingertips tingling as he places them over the wound and pours what he can into it, stitching him back together, sinew and skin.

When he’s done, he stays close, patiently waiting for the colour to return to Julian’s cheeks. Julian is staring at him, looking a little less tired, and a lot more confused. “Asra…”

“It’s fine.” Asra swallows away the lump that’s formed in his throat, shakes this silly little daze off and scrambles to stand, brushing dust from his trousers. He offers Julian a hand, tugging him up, the touch lingering, long fingers curling around his forearm.

Their gazes lock, and Asra silently mourns the spark that once fluttered between them. It’s still there, dormant, laying in wait, and maybe one day they can ignite it again. But, for now, he steps away.


	318. Finn x Ezra 7.

Finn sits against the headboard and gazes down at a soundly sleeping Ezra. The sheets are pooled low around his waist, and Finn can’t resist reaching out and touching, the softest brush of curious fingertips trailing the rise of his hips, tracing that perfect curve.  

Ezra shifts, nose crinkling and lashes fluttering as he looks up at him, sleepy and utterly  _perfect_. He grumbles, rubbing his face against the pillow, the white of his forelock stark as it mixes with his dark hair. “Some of us need more than a few hours sleep,” he yawns, voice hoarse with sleep, deliciously raspy. 

“And _some_  of us are too beautiful for  _some_  of us not to touch,” Finn teases, rolling closer, drawing a laugh from Ezra as he squashes him with his big body. 

The laughter quickly fades into a soft smile as Ezra shifts to face him, running a finger along Finn’s arm, then back up, gooseflesh prickling in it’s wake. They’re perfectly aligned, pressed close, Finn kissing the freckles that litter his shoulder.

Ezra tips his head back, baring his throat, Finn’s tongue finding the sharp column of it as he licks a stripe from collarbone to jaw, Ezra shuddering gratefully against him.

He threads clever fingers through Finn’s sleep-mussed hair, his other hand pressed against his broad chest as he arches against him, his movements needy. “Finnegan…” he whispers, a hint of warning in his voice, but Finn hushes him with a kiss.

“Yes?” He smirks, lightly brushing his nose over Ezra’s cheek before offering him a wide-eyed and  _totally_ (not) innocent gaze. 

Ezra swallows loudly, struck dumb for a moment as he stares back at him. “You’re impossible.” 

Finn feels weightless for a moment, lost in those striking green eyes as he reaches up to swipe his thumb over Ezra’s bottom lip. “I love the way I feel when I’m with you,” he whispers, feeling stripped bare, vulnerable, and hopelessly in love.

He hears the hitch in Ezra’s breath, catching his lips with another kiss before he can even dream about saying anything.


	319. Asra x Julian 43.

It’s raining, and Julian knows exactly what Asra will be thinking when he opens his door to find him on his stoop, drenched and shamelessly desperate. 

He raises his clenched fist to rap on the wood, once, twice, and he waits. 

A soft, amber glow radiates from the tiny window, the sign that hangs above the door swinging in harsh wind, rain hammering against his skin and soaking him to the bone. 

Eventually the door hums, glowing as Asra drops his ward, and then he’s there in all his messy haired glory, yawning and looking at Julian with sleepy violet eyes. 

“Ilya?” 

His coat dramatically whips around his ankles, and he can barely hear himself think, raising his arm to shield his face from the heavy droplets. “Can I come in?” 

Asra frowns, but nods anyway, stepping aside and quickly closing out the torrential weather. He grabs a towel from the kitchen and throws it to Julian, wrapping his arms around his waist and tugging his robe closed. “What are you doing here? I though–”

“I can’t stay away from you. I said I would try, but… I _can’t_.” 

The final word catches in his throat, his fingers twisting in the towel, holding it close to his chest. Asra just… stares. Still, silent.

He feels exposed, more vulnerable than ever, but he’d do anything,  _anything,_ for this witch. “I’m sorry. I’m just… I…” 

Asra steps forward and snatches the towel from his grip, his gaze ferocious, mouth twisted into a snarl, but something switches inside him, and he softens. 

Asra doesn’t say anything, doesn’t  _need_  to, because instead he reaches to undo the buttons on Julian’s coat, jacket, shirt, pushing the soaked-through garments back off broad shoulders and crowding close, close enough for Julian to feel the heat that radiates off him. 

Julian leans into his touch as he runs the towel through his hair, over his face, and drags it down his chest. 

He takes his hand, wordlessly leading him upstairs, accepting his apology with little contemplation. 


	320. Finn x Alkar x Ezra x Omen 10.

Alkar is draped lazily across Finn’s lap, both of them furiously tapping the buttons on their video game controllers as they fail miserably at yet another round.

“Fuck this,” Alkar grumbles, snatching Finn’s from his hands and throwing them both aside. “What’s for dinner?”

Finn quirks an eyebrow, tracing the vivid red of the tattoo that trails Alkar’s ribcage. “Um… pizza?”

“ _Again_?”

“Well… do  _you_  want to cook?”

Alkar pauses for a second, nose crinkling in disgust. “Fair. Okay, I’ll have sausage.”

Finn leans in and presses a quick kiss to his lips, offering him a wicked smirk. “Later. Now, what pizza would you li— _hey_!” He laughs, dodging the fist that’s flying towards him.

“Ass.”

“That too,” he winks, relishing in Alkar’s exasperated groan and the colour that floods his cheeks. “Kidding!”

He pulls out his phone, noticing a few notifications flashing. “Oh! They’ve sent us some snaps,” he smiles, drumming his hand against Alkar’s stomach, urging him to sit up and, slinging an arm around his shoulder and tugging him close.

They wait with bated breath as the pictures load, watching as an image of Omen appears, stood at a bar and pointing at a vast selection of whiskeys with a smile, then Ezra outside the Louvre grinning from ear to ear, then finally a selfie of them kissing, the Eiffel Tower huge and beautiful in the background.

They both sigh, Finn resting his head against Alkar’s. “Looks like they’re having fun,” he grins, Alkar nodding his agreement.

“Oh, another one just came through…”

“Holy.  _Shit_.”

The final snap was the two of them in a suggestive embrace, Omen shirtless and stunning, pressed close to Ezra, also shirtless with his bottom lip firmly tugged between his teeth, his hands splayed upon Omen’s back.

The caption reading, ‘ _We miss you,’_ with a bright red heart emoji.

Alkar looks up at Finn, eyes wide, that trademark devilish smirk curling at the corners of his lips. “Take off your clothes immediately.”

“Wh— _Alkar_!” Finn raises his hands in surrender as Alkar tugs at the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head and screwing it into a ball before he makes quick work of unbuttoning his jeans.

“We can’t let them win.”

Finn chokes a laugh, lifting his hips willingly as Alkar pulls his too-tight jeans down. “I don’t think it’s a competition.”

Alkar stops dead in his tracks, frowning up at him. “Oh, it’s a competition. We can’t let them think we’re just sat here pining for them. Now, uhhh… makeout with me,” he mumbles, straddling Finn’s lap and snatching his phone from his hands, holding it high and angling it perfectly, both of them in frame.

Finn plays along, never one to deny a half naked man sat in his lap, and he places his hands upon Alkar’s ass, tugging him close and pressing his lips to his throat. They both look up at the camera as seductively as they can muster, Alkar furiously snapping away as Finn gets creative with his tongue.

Alkar quickly finds the best shots and presses send, throwing the phone aside with a chuckle. “That’ll teach ‘em. Now, where were we…”


	321. Julian x m!Apprentice 130.

All that mattered to Julian was Finn’s happiness.

It had nearly killed them both to get here, and now his love was finally,  _finally_  whole again. He watches the memories flood back with a certain impatience, wondering if maybe,  _just maybe_ , they’d loved one another before, that somehow those memories had been lost along with all the others.

After all, a love this strong had to be fated, right?

Apparently, fate was a cruel creature.

As Finn comes around, Julian can only watch, an intruder in what was basically his own home,  _helpless_  as the golden eyes of his soulmate glow, focusing on Asra and only Asra.

 _“Oh. I… I_ loved  _you. I loved you so much…”_

The words come out broken, Finn clutching his chest, a mirror image to Asra who does the same, an all-too familiar silver glow emanating from beneath their fingertips, the sight of it making Julian’s stomach twist.

Asra crumbles,  _shatters_  into a million pieces, that carefully constructed facade falling away as he falls to his knees and cries, violent sobs wracking him as Finn stares in awe at his long-lost love.

Julian has a bitter taste in his mouth, swallowing bile as he turns and walks away.

He definitely doesn’t look back to watch them embrace, to watch Finn’s fingers  _oh so gently_ push into soft, silver hair, his eyes closed  _tight tight tight_ , tears streaking his cheeks. He also definitely doesn’t hear the whispered  _I love you’s,_ either.

He reaches for the door handle, pauses, takes a deep breath, ready to fall apart the second the cold air hits his face, and that’s when he feels a hand upon his shoulder, the warmth of it so familiar it makes his heart  _ache_.

He turns, and their gazes meet, Julian forgetting to breathe for a few desperate moments. “You don’t ha—“

”Please don’t leave me,” Finn interrupts, a desperate, trembling hand reaching to lace their fingers together, and he steps close,  _close_ enough for Julian to see the tears that are yet to fall beading on impossibly long, dark lashes.

His eyes are still glowing faintly, and Julian idly wonders if this is permanent now, if he really was as powerful (deadly, brilliant) as Asra had insisted, if magic flows through him just as naturally as blood.

”I thought you didn’t want me. I thought that… you and Asra. I  _can’t_ …”

Finn steals his words with a kiss, and it feels like the very first time, his big hands holding Julian’s face, thumbs brushing over flushed cheekbones, his whole body arching against him.

He pulls away, lips gone but not too far as they hover dangerously close, parted on a gasping breath. “I will  _always_  want you, Julian. I love you, I love you,  _I love you_ ,” then, “this changes nothing.”

_Oh, my love, it changes everything._


	322. Asra & Muriel 1.

Asra ran through the market, bare feet pounding the pavement, his head barely visible over the tips of the colourful stalls. He skidded to a halt, landing right in front of the bakers stall.

He offered her his best smile as always, the baker tutting but matching his expression regardless as she leaned down to pinch his soot-smeared cheeks between two fingers. “Asra. How are you today my dear? You’re looking awfully skinny.”

“Oh, I’m fine. Thank you for asking. How are you?” He was as polite as he could muster with this incessant hunger nagging at him, his stomach grumbling loudly in protest. His cheeks  _burned_ , a deep flush blooming and spreading to the tips of his ears,and he shyly dropped his wide-eyed gaze as she offered him a pitiful look.

She was always kind to him, and he didn’t know why, but was grateful all the same. She was the only one who asked nothing of him in return, and she had kind eyes, a friendly smile.

She mussed his greasy hair, seemingly trying her hardest to smile, and quickly shoved a warm bundle wrapped in cheesecloth into his waiting palms. “Quick now, run along. I can’t have all of the others knowing.”

Asra obliged, already spinning on his heel, throwing her a mischievous wink over his shoulder as he made off down one of the winding alleyways.

He crowded himself into an archway, carefully unwrapping the parcel to check its mouthwatering contents. The freshly baked crusty roll wouldn’t be enough for both of them, but it would certainly be better than nothing.

He heard footsteps approaching, and an all-too familiar face appeared around the corner. Asra didn’t know her name, but her and her brother did nothing but make his and Muriel’s lives a misery. She was pretty, he supposed, maybe even beautiful beneath all the soot and dirt, and she’d been nice to him once upon a time, earning his trust before rubbing his kindness in the dirt when she stole from them.

“It’s him,” she hissed. “What have you got there?”

Asra held the bread close to his chest, angling away from her and pressed himself against the wall, brow fixed in a firm frown. “It’s  _mine_ ,” he snapped, “go get your own food for once you scrounger.”

The little girl laughed, and he wondered how someone with so little could be so  _cruel_ to others in need.

She took a step forward, greedy little fingers reaching out, but she swiftly stopped in her tracks as a big arm shot out to block her.

“ _Go_ ,” Muriel growled, his voice loud, stern, and utterly terrifying if you didn’t know him.

The little girls brother fumbled to grab her arm, their dull brown eyes wide with fear as Muriel stared them down, the same age but towering over them,  _menacing_ without even trying to be.

He watched them out of the alley, turning to Asra once he was sure they had gone. He grabbed him firmly by the shoulders, bending to meet his violet gaze, checking him for injuries. “Are you okay?”

Asra smiled softly and nodded furiously, reaching up to place his hand on Muriel’s cheek. “Thank you, Muri.” He banded the bread over, Muriel taking it and tucking it safely inside his tattered cloak. “I  _can_  take care of myself though, you know.”

Muriel narrowed his eyes, his mouth twisting into a grimace. “Hmmf. You keep saying that.” He stood tall, Asra close by his side as they set off towards the woods, towards  _home_.

Asra smirked, playfully knocking his shoulder against Muriel’s arm, giggling at the loud sigh Muriel offered him.

It was by no means perfect, this friendship, this  _life_ , but it was all they had, and it was  _theirs_.


	323. Asra x m!Apprentice 31.

“No, come on.  _Concentrate_. I know you can do this,” Finn says, his lips pressed against Asra’s throat as he fails yet another attempt at the spell.

Asra takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and… “Shit!” He steps away, disentangling himself from Finn’s arms. “I can’t do it, I don’t want to hurt you again.”

Finn chuckles, quickly winding his arms back around Asra’s waist and reeling him in, close,  _tight_ against the broad expanse of his bare chest. “You could never hurt me. It’s just a little shock.”

Asra groans, exasperated, lining his fingers up with the hand-shaped scorch mark upon Finn’s chest, right over his heart. “A  _‘little shock_ ,’ he says. I’ve  _branded_  you.”

The arms around his waist tighten, greedy fingers pushing beneath the waistband of his loose trousers, two big hands cupping the curve of his ass as Finn leans in, running his nose along the sharp edge of Asra’s jaw. “I don’t mind being branded by you. You can mark me as many times as you wish. I’m  _yours._ ”

“Finn,” Asra moans, hips helplessly hitching forward, fingers pushing up into raven hair as he cups the curve of his skull. Finn’s lips find the hollow of his throat, sucking a claiming kiss to the point where his pulse thrums furiously. “Is the lesson over now,  _Master_?”

Finn growls at that, the word driving him mad, his kisses a little rougher, grip a little tighter, and Asra  _knows_ , uses it all the more, because why wouldn’t he? This man  _is_  his master, his world.

Finn pulls away and drags in a breath, Asra’s lurching control flickering, wavering, his hand burying itself deeper into that silk-soft hair. “Finnegan,” he groans, body shuddering, arching against him, fitting together like they were made for each other. “ _Please_.”

Finn smiles, and everything else fades away. “You always ask so nicely, my love.” Without warning, he hauls Asra up, holding him tight as he carries him the short distance to the bed, toppling him backward and letting the mattress catch their weight. They both laugh, Finn sitting back on his heels, observing Asra sprawled out and breathless beneath him.

Asra eagerly shimmies out of his trousers, sitting up to pull at Finn’s, deft fingers unlacing the ties, his eyes alight, sparkling, tawny skin flushed a delicious red. “Make me yours.”

Something shifts, Finn’s iron-clad resolve snapping as he grips Asra’s chin, tilting his head this way and that, leaning in close, noses brushing, lips a breath away. “You are already _mine_. You’ll always be  _mine_.”

Asra shudders, the words washing over him, making him feel alive, nothing else in the world able to invigorate him like the tight grip of this man’s hand, his kiss, his everything. “Yes, yours. Always.  _Always_.”

Then, Finn is kissing him, greedily licking into his mouth, tasting him, his big body covering him with just the right amount of pressure that Asra can roll his hips against him, quell the ache that throbs between his thighs, even if just for a moment.

Finn sits up like a shot, the gold in his eyes barely visible around blown-black pupils, making him look as deadly as Asra knows he truly is. Asra whimpers at the loss of contact, but Finn doesn’t leave him alone for long, surging back in to nip at his throat, his lips, but only for a fleeting moment before he’s moving down Asra’s body, leaving heated, reverent kisses upon every inch of bare skin his lips can reach.

Asra knows this game,  _loves_  this game, but right now he craves,  _needs_ that solid weight pinning him to the mattress. “You’ll be the death of me, Lightwood,” he groans, throwing his head back against the downy pillow as Finn flicks his tongue out over his nipple, chuckling to himself.  _Ass_.

“I’m savoring you,  _this_ ,” he mumbles, words muffled against the arc of Asra’s ribs.

“You have me forever, can you savour me later?” Asra’s breath catches in his throat as Finn’s head snaps up, their dilated gazes locking. He looks fierce,  _devastating_.

“You better mean that, because I can’t live without you, without  _this_.” His voice wavers, and Asra cups his face in his hands, staring him down.

“Until my heart stops beating,” he promises.

Finn smiles at that, softly, like it’s the single most beautiful thing he’s ever heard. He parts Asra’s thighs with a gentle hand, and Asra can’t do anything but twist his fingers in the sheets and hold his breath as Finn pushes a slick digit inside. Asra’s pulse pounding in his ears as he adjusts to the intrusion, an incessant pressure building in his gut as Finn presses another inside, drawing them out, then back in, curling and pressing against that spot that sends sparks skittering all over his body.

He sucks in a shuddering breath, back arching into a bow as he lets it out. Finn groans at the sight of him, removing his touch and curling his fingers around his own aching cock, slathering himself in the leftover slick and placing himself at Asra’s entrance. He reaches out to gather Asra’s wrists in one big hand, pinning them above his head as he rolls his hips forward and sheaths himself to the hilt in the most delicious glide.

The air is ripped out of both of their lungs as Finn draws back, eyes locked as he leans closer, warm skin on warm skin, chests flush as he finds a rhythm that seems as easy as breathing, the expert snap of his hips sending Asra reeling,  _hurtling_  over the edge.

It  _is_  as easy as breathing to them, second nature, and Asra fights to stop himself from closing his eyes, the sight of Finn almost too much, too  _intimate_. Finn releases his wrists, sinking his fingers into Asra’s hair, Asra’s splayed upon his back, fingers digging in, sliding for purchase against sweat-slick skin.

“Touch yourself for me,” Finn purrs, nuzzling his jaw with his nose, pressing a kiss to his neck. Asra obliges, taking himself in his hand as Finn picks up his pace, the headboard noisily slamming against the wall with his efforts.

Asra catches Finn’s earlobe between his teeth, nipping once. “I want you to come inside me,” he whispers, voice broken as he chases his finish, Finn staring at him with an awe-filled gaze, and Asra can do little but hold on, Finn giving in to his desperate need to claim him, to fill him up and make sure Asra would feel him forever.

Finn kisses him feverishly as Asra comes, catching his cries on the tip of his tongue, the intensity of it making his head swim, spots circling his vision as that welcome, wet heat pools upon his stomach.

Finn whimpers at the sight of it, chasing him over the edge, unable to outlast the tight clench of Asra around him, his head falling forward to rest upon Asra’s chest, body strung tight like a bow,  _snapping_ as he fills him up, gently rocking his hips, chasing the feeling.

Finn shudders, trembling arms giving way as he falls against Asra’s chest, lacing their fingers together and squeezing, holding on tight.

“I… I can’t imagine ever feeling like this with anyone but you,” he whispers, parted lips pressing against his jaw.

Asra swallows thickly, smiling to himself, idly playing with Finn’s sweat-damp hair, still connected, pleasure ebbing and fading, turning into something softer. “I love you, Finnegan.”


	324. Nadia x Portia 1.

Everything is hazy, unclear. She feels like she’s floating outside of herself, an observer looking down on her own body as her eyes slowly crack open, adjusting to the dull, amber candlelight that lights the room. Someone had obviously been considerate of her condition, whatever her condition might be…

She carefully shifts upon the mattress, getting a feel for her unusually heavy limbs, turning her head on the downy pillow, and she’s met with a pair of earnest blue ( _so_  blue) eyes.

The startled smile that crosses the unfamiliar girls lips is enchanting, and she reaches out to press a hand to Nadia’s forehead, withdrawing her touch quickly. “Milady,” she breathes, the word carried on a sharp exhale. “Welcome back.”

Nadia groans, her head  _pounding_ , and she can’t remember how she got here, the last memory she had is fuzzy, a blur at best. “Smoke. I… I can’t…”

The girl scrambles to kneel beside the bed, shaking her head. “It’s okay, just relax. You need to take it easy for me, okay?”

Her nose crinkles when she smiles, milky white skin littered with charming freckles, her cheeks dusted a light rose. She’s quite beautiful.

Nadia wets her dry lips and nods, and for some reason she trusts this girl implicitly. “Name. Your name.”

The girl’s eyes grow impossibly wide as she grimaces. “How rude of me, I’m so sorry!” She takes a deep breath, composes herself. “It’s Portia. I’ve been here with you the whole time you’ve been asleep. It’s silly, but… I feel like I know you.”

Nadia offers her a soft smile, the best she can muster at such a confusing time, but it’s still genuine. She raises a trembling hand, her fingers numb. “Nice to meet you, Portia.”

Portia looks at her hand, then back at her, then the hand again. Nadia quirks an eyebrow, and Portia finally laces their fingers together. “You too, Milady.”


	325. Julian x m!Apprentice 131.

Julian is  _desperate_. Desperate to reach out and take what’s rightfully his, but he can’t, he’s  _forbidden_.

”You are officially the biggest  _ass_  on the planet, I can’t believe you would do this to me,” Julian groans, fingers twitching and wrists burning where Finn has expertly tied the scarf tight enough to stop him from even thinking about escaping.

Finn shrugs, a cocky smirk plastered on his unfairly handsome face as he leisurely stretches out on the bed in all his naked glory, his eyebrow arched as he runs a hand down his toned, perfect chest.

”You can’t believe it, really, Julian?”

Julian purses his lips, carefully considering his answer. He may or may not be deserving of this particular punishment.

”Well, you see. Uh. I was… I was lonely! You were out an—“

”An hour…”

”Five minutes without your company is torturous, my love. An  _hour_  is simply inhumane!”

Finn rolls his eyes, but he’s enjoying this, the ass. “I told you not to, and you disobeyed me,” he purred, crawling to the end of the bed, sitting mere inches away from Julian. “Now you can sit there like a good boy and  _watch_.”

Julian whimpers as Finn curls his hand around himself, still smirking, his golden gaze firmly fixed upon Julian’s silver.

”Please,  _please_  can I touch you?”

Finn bites his bottom lip, slowly shaking his head. “But I do it so much better,” he teases, laughing when Julian sputters his protest.


	326. Alkar x Lucio 4.

Alkar runs a finger along the shelf, crinkling his nose when the digit comes away dusty. It’s early,  _really_  early, and the illusive witch and doctor are nowhere to be seen.

He doesn’t know why he’s here, why he’s prodding around the piles of parchment covered in illegible scribble, but he’s here nonetheless.

There’s pages and pages of notes, odd diagrams that look a lot like dissected body parts and insects, everything looking like it was written in a fever dream, panicked.

He’d stupidly left the door ajar, so when loud footsteps approached he could do little but wait to get caught. He sighed, chucking the handful of notes back on the desk, letting them scatter. He’d learned nothing, just as he suspected.

“What the hell are  _you_ doing in here?”

A shiver ran down his spine, that voice only belonging to one person. He turned, palms raised in surrender, or supplication, and found Lucio standing before him, shaky on skinny legs. The sight of him made him falter, but he hardened his gaze, not daring to show him a sliver of compassion, of  _weakness_.

“Looking for something to steal, what else would I be doing in here?”

Lucio scoffed, crimson eyes flickering to the desk. “Doctor Jules keeps his things much tidier than this. He won’t be pleased you’ve been snooping. Looking to help them with my cure?” He sneered, lip curled back over his teeth.

“The doctor and witch can hang,” he spat, closing the gap between them in a few strides. “Why would I want to help them anyway?”

Lucio grinned, and it almost made Alkar cower away, but he quickly reminded himself this was no longer a man to be afraid of. He was hunched over, his breath rattling in his lungs, skin pallid and covered in a sheen of sweat. Dying.

This was not the man he craved, so why did his traitorous heart still clench when he saw him?

“Because you’ll be left without something to obsess over, to fulfil your sick little fantasies,” he growled, prodding a bony finger to Alkar’s chest. “You might be in luck. I have a plan, one that the idiot ‘doctor’ and the witch could never even dream up.”

Alkar could see something glistening in his cloudy crimson gaze, something that made his stomach twist. “What are you up to, Lucio?”

Lucio looked up at him, and for just a fraction of a moment, Alkar felt that power, that  _fear_ once more. “I’m going to become immortal.”


	327. Finn x Alkar x Ezra x Omen 11.

These days Finn often finds himself pausing and reflecting, taking a step back and looking at just how  _lucky_  he really is.

On this particular sunny morning, he’s laying in bed with three sets of limbs tangled with his own, the sunlight hitting Ezra’s perfect dark skin, highlighting the freckles that litter his shoulders. Omen is draped across him, mouth moving as he mumbles in his sleep, and Alkar is awkwardly curled up against his side, his neck bent at an angle that can’t be good for a human. 

He relishes in the silence as long as he can, smiling to himself at the thought of all hell breaking loose as they all begin to wake. Alkar will inevitably be the last to rise, Ezra the first, and Omen… well,  _Omen_  will need to be carried downstairs and carefully placed on the kitchen counter before he even thinks about opening his pretty brown eyes. 

It’s routine, but it’s never boring, and he wouldn’t change it for the world.

A soft yawn falls from Ezra’s lips, and he grimaces as he tries to disentangle himself from Omen’s iron-clad grip. “Morning,” he whispers offering Finn a sleepy smile and leaning over to give him a quick kiss, his lips soft, warm. 

Omen sighs loudly, giving Ezra a hard shove in the chest where he’s squashing him slightly, sending him tumbling back against the mattress. “ _Hey_!” 

“Here we go…” Finn groans, mostly to himself. 

Alkar sits up like a man possessed, eyes wide. “Shut the fuck up,” he growls, immediately shrinking back down against Finn as Ezra throws him one of his signature ‘ _looks_ ’.

Finn makes a break for it as Ezra gives Omen a lecture about manners in the bedroom, sliding beneath the covers and emerging at the bottom of the bed. He stretches, arms reaching for the ceiling as all his bones click back into their rightful places. He feels three sets of eyes on him, and he smirks as they all look him up and down.

“This is the most beautiful sight I’ll ever see,” he grins, gesturing to the three of them mid-battle, before turning and walking out of the room in all his naked glory. 


	328. Julian x Asra x m!Apprentice 12.

One thing Finn had learned about these little flashes of memories he seemed to be getting more and more frequently is that they could happen at the most inopportune time.

For example, right now, whilst minding his own business in his bedroom, pottering around and sorting through old trinkets and mismatched jewellery. He feels that familiar thrum in his head, the necklace he’s clutching falling from suddenly numb fingers as he presses them to his temple.

He can’t see a thing for the briefest of moments, and then all he can see is  _them_

_Julian rolls the charm over his fingers, the long, golden chain wrapped around his wrist. A pair of greedy arms snake around his waist, pulling him back against a bare chest._

_Asra’s lips find the column of his throat, already littered with purpling bruises and bite marks, his fingers toying with the loose waistband of his trousers, dipping inside. Julian tilts his head, baring more of his neck, supplicant, lips parted on a sharp exhale as Asra’s talented fingers grip him beneath the straining fabric._

_The necklace falls from Julian’s fingers, landing on the dresser as a breathy, “Asra,” falls from his lips._

Finn snaps back to reality, shaking the memory off, everything blurred as the all-too-real vision flickers and fades away. “Fuck.”

He takes a deep breath, the image of them together like that burned onto his brain like a brand, even though he sees them like this for real, in his bed, there’s something different about how they were, how they used to be.

He grips the edge of the dresser, white-knuckling, trying to will away the incessant ache that’s bloomed between his thighs. He growls, frustrated as he submits to his desires and pushes a hand into his trousers, curling his digits around his hard length and strokes once, twice, three times.

All he can think about is the way Julian said Asra’s name like a prayer, the easy way they fit together, the crooked smirk plastered on Asra’s too-perfect lips, and the hard, bared lines of Julian’s torso.

His head falls forward, a ragged groan rumbling deep in his throat, and then he hears the door creak open.

He snaps his head around and finds Asra and Julian staring at him, eyes wide and curious, an instant flush creeping across Julian’s cheeks.

”Finn?” Asra whispers, lips quirking into an impish grin as he surveys the sight before him. He takes a tentative step forward, closing the gap between them. His brow furrows, and Finn wonders if he can sense what he’s seen. “Oh,” he breathes, eyes closed, swaying where he stands. “ _Oh._ ”

Julian joins them, frantically searching their faces for answers he won’t get. “What am I missing?” He mumbles, voice broken as his gaze settles on Finn’s… predicament.

Asra’s violet eyes snap open, and he grabs Julian’s hand, lacing their fingers together, leading him to the bed. “Just… hush,” Asra smiles, placing a finger over Julian’s lips as he climbs onto the bed, settling behind him.

Finn watches intently as Asra pulls Julian’s shirt back off his shoulders, his eyes never leaving Finn’s, not once, not even when he carefully licks a wet stripe from the base of Julian’s throat to the edge of his jaw. “Is this what you saw?”

Finn nods, slowly walking towards them, falling to his knees before a rapidly melting Julian, splaying his palms upon his parted thighs and pushing up,  _up._  “Yes, yes it is.”


	329. Asra x Julian 44.

Asra reaches out and holds Julian’s face in his hands, smiling to himself as Julian purses his lips, his eyes fluttering open, endless pools of pretty silver meeting his violet. 

He never used to sleep like this before, used to have fitful nightmares or pace whatever room they’d fallen into after a night of passion. Now, though…  _now_  he was impossible to wake. 

Julian takes up so much room with his too-long limbs, he steals the blankets, talks in his sleep; an invasive presence in Asra’s bed, but one that he wouldn’t change for the world. 

He’s still blinking himself awake, and Asra cherishes him the most in these moments, the quiet ones where words don’t exist,  _nothing_  does but the breath that passes between them, their hearts strangely in-sync. 

Asra moves his hands down, fingertips trailing his lightly stubbled jaw, arms winding around his neck to twirl the soft strands of hair that curl at his neck. “I love you, Ilya,” he whispers, meaning it with every fibre of his being, yet still wondering how they got here. 

Julian smiles softly, unconsciously edging closer to him, the mattress shifting. Asra kisses the tip of his perfectly imperfect nose as Julian tugs at him, pulling him against his chest. “As I love you.” 

Asra buries his face into the warm crook of his neck, presses his lips to pale, freckled skin. He breathes him in, and he smells like sunlight and fresh air.  

He’d been searching for so long, pining after something that wasn’t his, and yet what he truly needed was right in front of him this whole time. The other half of his soul, his  _everything_. 


	330. Finn x Alkar 14.

Alkar kissed him like he was starving, smiles pressed against hungry lips as they stumble backwards into the shop, closing the cold Vesuvian night out with the slamming of the door. 

He presses Finn back against the wall, groaning against his mouth as he drags his hands down his chest, down, _down_  until he’s fumbling with the buttons of Finn’s trousers, popping them open then spreading them wide, greedily palming him through the straining fabric of his underwear. 

Finn tastes sweet, whiskey warm on the tip of his tongue, and Alkar reluctantly breaks the kiss, pulling away ever-so-slightly to get a good look at him, to stare into  _those_  eyes, the molten gold barely visible around blown-black pupils. Alkar whimpers as Finn impatiently yearns against his touch, grinding his hips, a sly smirk playing on perfect lips,  _daring_  him to do something about the hardness between his legs. 

Alkar growls, his hand pandering, letting him writhe against him, the feel of him thick and  _hard_ against his palm maddening, and he knows exactly what he wants, what he  _needs_. 

He pushes Finn’s shirt open, needing eyes on all that bare skin, watching the heavy rise and fall of his chest, gazes locked as Alkar kisses a trail of messy kisses down over his tensed abdomen,  _lower_ still until he’s falling to his knees, ready to worship at Finn’s altar. 

Finn grins lazily, pushing a hand into messy chestnut locks, blunt nails scratching at Alkar’s scalp as he hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his briefs and tugs, groaning at the sight of him before he presses his mouth  _right there,_ breathing him in.  

Finn shudders, slamming his head back against the wall with a  _thud_  as Alkar traces his talented tongue along the underside of his cock, still watching Finn intently, watching every flutter of his eyelashes, the quirk of his lips. 

He idly thinks how he could spend hours doing this, watching Finn fall apart, watching as he finds all the ways he can unmake him with his hands, his mouth…

Finn makes another desperate noise as Alkar  _finally_ wraps his lips around the head, tasting him salt-sweet on his tongue, his senses overwhelmed with Finn, Finn,  _Finn_. He rocks his hips gently, carefully pushing into Alkar’s tight, hot,  _wet_  mouth, reaching down to press a hand to his jaw, fingers twitching, restless.

“Alkar…” he breathes, broken, wrecked,  _begging_.  

Alkar sucks, pressing his tongue flat and moving in a perfect glide, dragging his teeth gently over the sensitive crown and eliciting a hiss from Finn, looking up to catch him smiling, his eyes practically rolling back in his head from the sensation. Alkar grins around him, doing it all the more, teasing him to within an inch of his life. 

He quickly loses track of everything,  _lost_  in the sensation, the feel of Finn thick and hot upon his tongue with each increasingly frantic glide of his mouth. He vaguely hears Finn mumble something incoherent, feeling his fingers tighten in his hair, registering the way his body tightens and bows, teasing more delicious sounds from his lips. 

He takes him right down to the root, Finn crying out, coming hard and fast, Alkar gratefully swallowing every last drop as he spills  _hot_  down his throat. He pulls away with a slick  _pop,_ sucking in a harsh breath, filling his lungs and licking his lips as Finn eagerly tugs at him to stand, pulling him into a crushing, depraved kiss, moaning as he tastes himself on Alkar’s tongue. 

He drops his lashes as Finn pulls away to study him. “ _Fuck_ , you’re beautiful,” Finn purrs, in awe, running his thumb over Alkar’s swollen bottom lip. “I’m not even close to being done with you yet.” 


	331. Julian x m!Apprentice 132.

Finn wakes to the all-too familiar sound of Julian panting,  _gasping_  for a steady breath as he runs trembling fingers through the mess of his hair.

He sits up quickly, grabbing Julian and pulling him close, whispering soothing words, words that calm and heal.

Then, he waits.

It’s become a routine, and Finn would do anything to make the nightmares stop, but not even Julian knows what haunts him, only fragments of awful memories infecting his mind.

Eventually his hands steady, the tears dry, and his breathing returns to normal. He releases his firm grip on Finn’s arms, removing his head from the safe crook of his neck, looking up with sad, silver eyes, the vivid red of his sclera stark in the darkness. “I’m sorry.”

Finn offers him a soft smile, shaking his head, refusing the unneeded apology and reaching up to cup his face between big hands, thumbs brushing over sharp cheekbones. “Are you okay?”

Julian nods slowly, tugging Finn to lay down, pulling him back against the mattress. They easily fall into an embrace, Julian pressed back against Finn’s chest, perfect puzzle pieces fitting together, Finn leaving a kiss on the back of Julian’s neck, their fingers entwined.

Finn feels Julian shift back against him, a subtle, yet not subtle enough, grind of his hips that sends his thoughts skittering like wildfire, unable to resist yearning against him, delighting in the little whimper that escapes his lips in response.

He runs a hand down Julian’s arm, gooseflesh blooming beneath his fingertips, Julian’s back arched into a perfect, sinuous bow, seeking more friction, more  _anything_. Finn presses his lips to his shoulder, whispering, “ _Julian_ ,” against freckled skin.

Julian nods in response to his unspoken question, Finn’s hands mapping the broad expanse of his chest, dipping beneath the sheets to curl clever fingers around his already aching length.

Julian bucks back against him with a gasp as he begins to stroke him, the messy, hectic kisses that Finn presses against his bare skin burning like fire, the hard press of Finn’s cock against his backside make him see stars. “Please…  _more_.”

Finn reaches back into the nightstand, the momentary lapse in contact devastating as he coats his fingers with slick, quickly returning to wrap himself around Julian once more. He runs a teasing digit over Julian’s entrance, pressing inside carefully, in and out, watching intently as Julian muffles a cry against the pillow, handsome face twisted with pleasure, long fingers clawing at Finn’s thigh.

Finn can see how much he needs this, the perfect distraction from his fitful thoughts, the overwhelming _ache_  that exists between them melting away as he finally presses inside, sheathing himself to the hilt, filling him up inch by perfect inch.

Finn rests his head between Julian’s shoulder blades and let’s Julian move against him, setting his own gentle pace, savouring every careful glide, every hitch of his breath. It’s almost painful how perfect it is, every nerve ending frayed, set alight as Julian takes what he needs, giving Finn  _everything_  in return.

Finn grips Julian’s hips, guiding him back, encouraging him to move a little faster, to push a little harder, needing to feel all of him, every inch of that tight heat. “So good,” Finn purrs, lips pressed to Julian’s ear, Julian reaching back to seek out his hand, lacing their fingers together tight,  _tight_.

”Close…  _Finn,_ ” Julian whispers, words choked-off and broken as Finn takes over, prepares to unmake him, reaching with his free hand to stroke Julian once again, coaxing him over the edge.

He comes with a careful cry, body wound tight, snapping like a cord as he spills over Finn’s fingers, over the sheets. Finn shudders, shakes, swiftly following him, filling him to the brim with a muffled cry, face buried in the warm crook of his neck.

He rolls his hips, pushing through the hyper-sensitivity as Julian’s breath steadies, rocking gently, savouring every moment, never wanting it to end.

Julian whimpers, a delicious,  _broken_  sound as he turns his head, seeking Finn’s lips and catching them in a soft kiss that lingers long after it’s over. “Thank you,” he smiles, breath hitching as Finn pulls back, both of them exhaling sharply as he pushes forward again.

They don’t part for what feels like forever, Julian needing that connection to ground him, needing him closer than close, Finn being the only thing than can truly chase his demons away.


	332. Julian x m!Apprentice 133.

“Stay still. Stay.  _Still!_ ”

Finn groans loudly as Julian pins him to the mattress, brow fixed in a deep frown, a needle carefully placed between his teeth.

”It hurts,” he mumbles, pouting like a child as Julian rolls his eyes, wiping the cut with a cloth, the water turning red as he rinses it off.

Julian leans in close, getting a better look, poking the swollen, reddening skin. “Stop being such a baby. It serves you right for picking fights, and to think you used to yell at me for doing the same.”

Finn huffed, wincing as Julian rubs alcohol over the wound. “Yes, well…  _ouch_ … you’re not invincible anymore, so someone has to protect you.”

Julian quirks an eyebrow at him, chuckling to himself as he threads the needle, his fingers cold as they touch Finn’s skin, the sharp press of the needle making him jump as he begins to stitch him back together. “Well, just remember you’ll have to go through this every time you play the hero. I may not be impervious to harm anymore, but I also can’t heal you with the simple press of my palm.”

Finn watches him intently, the expert glide of his wrist, the way he moves as if it’s all second nature. He’s elegant, precise. “You’re actually good at this.”

Julian ties off the thread and pulls off his gloves, admiring his handiwork. “What, you thought I was just  _pretending_ to be a doctor? I’ve fixed much worse than a shallow knife wound, my dear.”

Finn sits up, poking the puckered flesh. “No, it’s just Asra sai—“

Julian throws him a  _look_ , and Finn swiftly shuts his mouth, thinking better of opening that particular wound. He offers him a smile, one that he knows he can’t resist, and leans in to press a kiss to the tip of his nose, dropping his voice. “Thank you,  _Doctor_.”

Julian tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, looking up at him through long lashes. “Call me that again, would you?”


	333. Julian x m!Apprentice 134.

Finn sits up against the headboard, his daughter a tiny,  _perfect_  bundle in his arms, his husband sleeping soundly beside him. He still can’t quite believe it’s real, that she’s really  _theirs_. 

He smiles to himself as she yawns, her mouth forming a perfect ‘o’, the tiny, contented noises she makes enough to make his heart skip more than a few beats. 

Julian stirs beside him, rolling over and smiling when he spots them. He’s exhausted from being up with her all night, but he can’t resist her,  _them_. “She’s going to be so spoiled if you keep her in here with us all the time.”

“Hush, I’m not letting her out of my sight until she’s at least thirty,” Finn whispers, Julian curling tight against his side, resting his head on Finn’s shoulder and reaching out to carefully stroke a finger over her clenched fist. 

She opens her hand, closing her grip around his finger, and they both sigh as she squeezes him tightly, still fast asleep. “Okay, forget I said anything,” Julian laughs, starry-eyed as he gazes down at her. “She’s really quite perfect.” 

Finn feels a tightness forming in his chest, the overwhelming love that he has for her, the desire to protect, to provide. He thinks back to how much he cared for his own parents, how they were taken away from him far too soon, and how he’d do  _everything_  in his power to make sure her and Julian were always loved, fiercely, wholly, irrevocably, no matter what.

* * *

Isabella is four when she first shows signs of magic, and much to Julian’s dismay, her affinity lies with fire, somehow just like her father. 

He watches from a (safe) distance as Finn crouches beside her, golden eyes shining with pride and excitement as he whispers his gentle instructions. 

Her brow is furrowed, lips pursed in concentration as she lays her palms flat, open, the candle that sits on the table before her slowly sparking and flickering to life as she stares it down.

“I did it Papa!” She looks up at Finn, beaming,  _beautiful,_  and he eagerly scoops her up in a crushing hug, lifting her from the ground and spinning her until they’re both dizzy. Julian joins them, wrapping his arms around both of them, throwing Finn a wary glance, but his obvious glee quickly dispels Julian’s nerves. 

“Well done, not  _one_  pair of curtains singed this time,” Julian smiles, brushing long, chestnut curls behind her ear. 

“Can I try again, Papa?” She looks up at Finn with those huge, earnest eyes, reaching up to press her hand to his cheek. 

He kisses her on the forehead, shaking his head gently. “Not tonight, sweetpea. Maybe tomorrow, it’s getting late.” He sets her down, nodding towards the candle and smiling proudly as she carefully blows it out. “Go get ready for bed, we’ll be up to tuck you in.” 

She nods politely and disappears up the stairs. Julian frowns, watching her go as Finn reels him in, wrapping his arms around his waist, running his nose along the sharp edge of his jaw. “She’ll be fine. She’s painfully clever, just like you.” 

Julian offers him a half-smile, feeling guilty for still having such an aversion to magic, even after all these years. 

Finn brushes his thumb over the furrow in Julian’s brow, swiping it away and placing a quick kiss to his lips. “She’s safe, you have my word. I’d never let anything happen to either of you.” 

Julian smiles, and he believes him. 


	334. Asra x m!Apprentice 32.

Asra has been pushing his buttons all day, not listening to his instructions, being smart, sarcastic, all a ploy to get him to snap and give him exactly what he needs,  _craves_.  

Finn has been weak before, but not today. Today he’ll teach him a lesson, one that might linger a little longer than Asra can stand. 

He smiles to himself as impatient arms wind around his waist, greedy fingers toying with the laces of his loose trousers as Finn stirs a potion. He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t extremely distracting, enticing, but he needs to remind Asra who’s in charge, who his  _Master_  is. 

He lets Asra have his fun for a moment, enjoys the feel of those talented fingers dipping beneath the waistband, letting him think he’s going to get him to cave, but he’s failed his spells too many times this week. Discipline is key, and he’s let Asra get lazy, rewarding his failures by taking him to bed. 

Finn grabs Asra’s wrist and spins to face him, pushing him back against the counter, pinning him with his big body and leaning in  _close_ , lips but a breath away.

Asra’s wide, violet eyes shimmer with excitement, his body relaxing against Finn’s,  _melting_  as Finn looks like he’s going to close that minute gap and seam their mouths together, but… he has other ideas. “Upstairs,  _now_.” 

Asra shivers at his low, demanding tone, tugging his plump bottom lip between his teeth and whimpering as Finn releases his tight grip, dutifully following his orders (when it suits him) and heading for the stairs, throwing him a sly smile over his shoulder. 

Finn waits a few minutes before he slowly climbs the stairs, pushing open the bedroom door to find Asra already half-undressed, his shirt a pile of white cotton on the floorboards. He’s sat cross-legged on the bed, painfully  _beautiful_  as always, so much so that Finn almost regrets what he’s about to do. 

He he drops to his knees on the mattress, flattens his palm upon Asra’s chest and pushes him backwards, crawling over him,  _covering_  him. He runs his nose along the sharp column of Asra’s throat, presses his lips over his fluttering pulse as he gathers a wrist in each hand, pinning them to the mattress above his head.

He whispers an incantation that makes Asra’s brow furrow, invisible shackles forming and fusing to the headboard, keeping him in place. Finn smirks, sitting back and watching him process what’s just happened. “If you listened to me this morning, you should be able to dispel that,” he shrugs, sitting back and folding his arms across his chest. “So, go ahead. I’ll wait.” 

Asra groans, slamming his head back against the downy pillow. “Finnegan,  _please_. Stop messing around and untie me.” 

Finn rolls his eyes as he climbs off the bed, admiring the delightful view. “I don’t think so. You’ve been distracted lately, and I’ve let it happen because you’re, well…  _you_.” 

He wanders over to the dresser, grabbing his keys and pausing in the doorway, taking one last look at the all-too tempting sight. “I’m going out. Just have a good,  _hard_  think about what I tried to teach you earlier, and you might get rewarded if you succeed.” 

He winks, closing the door in spite of Asra’s loud protests. 

* * *

He returns when the sun sets, smiling to himself as he sees the shop still in darkness. He pushes the old key into the lock and turns it, the door protesting loudly as he pushes it open. He heads straight for the bedroom, and finds Asra exactly where he left him, looking more than a little pissed-off. “No luck, my love?” 

Asra sneers at him, watching him intently as Finn removes his clothes,  _all_  of his clothes, and climbs to hover over him. Finn nips at his hipbone, quickly kissing away the sting, trailing kisses up his side, over his ribs. “I can do this  _all_  night, you know,” he whispers, grinning as Asra writhes beneath him. “Just… let you lay here, get you so turned on you can’t even think straight, have you begging me for mercy that I won’t grant you.” 

He parts Asra’s thighs, pressing his thumbs over his arching hipbones, watching his cheeks darken, the colour spreading over the top of his chest like spilled wine, the outline of his cock thick and  _hard_  through the straining fabric of his trousers, hips rutting up, desperate. “ _Please_ …” 

Finn leans in  _close_ , gripping Asra’s chin between his thumb and forefinger and holding him steady. “Then dispel my magic, and I’m all  _yours_. Concentrate, I taught you better than this, I know you can do it.” 

Asra whimpers, closing his eyes and filling his lungs before letting out a slow, steady breath. Finn watches, fascinated, as always, as his white hair rises static around his head like a halo, fingers twitching, the air growing thick around them. Finn suppresses a smile, pride taking hold of him as he watches Asra’s fingertips emit a dull, white glow, the shackles snapping and fading to nothingness. 

Before he can even think, Asra is on him, tackling him to the mattress, straddling his hips and devouring his lips in a hungry, desperate kiss, his hands fumbling blindly to remove his own trousers. “You,” he groans, another kiss, “are,” kiss, “ _infuriating_.” 

Finn chuckles, biting at his throat, his shoulder, hands roaming greedily, tracing the divots of his spine, cupping his ass and yanking him close, flush, both of them crying out at the contact, sparks skittering across their skin. He pushes a hand through white hair as Asra reaches over into the nightstand, dropping a vial in Finn’s waiting palm, dragging blunt nails down his chest. “What are you waiting for? I did it, didn’t I?” He smirks, catching Finn’s earlobe between his teeth. “Now give me my reward,  _Master_.” 

Finn coats his fingers in slick, reaching around to press a digit, followed by another, inside, watching Asra’s face, the flutter of his white eyelashes as they kiss the tops of flushed, tawny cheeks. Sinful sounds roll off the tip of Asra’s tongue, and Finn can no longer stand it, growling as he tugs Asra flush against his chest, holding his breath as Asra  _slowly_  lowers himself onto his cock, taking him in inch by inch until he’s filled to the brim, his head lulling forward against Finn’s chest as he adjusts to the welcome intrusion. 

Finn grabs Asra’s wrists, gathering them in one big palm and holding them behind his back, looking up at him like he’s the only other creature on this planet, in  _awe_  as he moves above him, Finn’s name falling from his lips over and over and  _over._  

Finn tightens his grip, Asra whimpering his approval, his movements growing frantic, stuttering, and Finn can tell he’s close,  _smirking._ “Come for me, Asra.” 

Their eyes lock, purple and gold, and everything shatters around them. Asra cries out, a white-hot,  _blinding_ , burning pleasure coursing through his veins, no hands required as he spills thick and hot over Finn’s stomach, the sight of it coupled with the tight,  _tight_ clench of Asra cleaving around Finn is more than enough to push him hurtling over the edge, chasing that glorious,  _blissful_  finish. 

They collapse onto the mattress, a mess of tangled limbs and sweat-slick skin, Asra trembling, burying his face into the warm crook of Finn’s neck, fingers tangled among messy, raven hair. He looks up, eyes hooded, a lazy grin on his pretty face. “If that’s what I get for being a terrible listener, I think I’ll have to disobey you more often.” 


	335. Asra x Julian 45.

Asra watches him, watches the way his lips curl at the edges as the barmaid places his drink in front of him, winking at her and making her blush.

This is a different Julian than the one he’s used to. He’s…  _softer_ , happier, somehow.

He removes his gloves, arranging them neatly on the table, curling those pretty fingers around the neck of the bottle and bringing it up to his lips. The sharp edge of his throat bobs as he swallows, lips wet, glistening.

He’s strangely beautiful, ethereal, even. Asra finds himself unable to suppress his smile as Julian catches him staring, pale, freckled cheeks blooming a brilliant rose as he shyly drops his gaze. “Uhm, is… how is your drink?”

Asra shrugs, nonchalant, unconcerned with the untouched glass of wine that sits before him. He’s too wrapped up in these strange feelings, the tight fist that curls around his heart whenever the doctor is near. It’s new, exciting, and he wishes they were anywhere else but here right now, in a place where he could show him exactly how he feels.

Julian quickly glances around the room, silver gaze settling back on Asra as he reaches over the table and laces their fingers together. “This is nice. This… uhh…  _us_ ,” he stutters, that flush deepening, spreading to the tips of his ears.

Asra tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, leaning in almost unconsciously, squeezing Julian’s hand tight,  _tight_. “Ilya?”

Julian smiles, eyes alight, and Asra’s heart skips a beat. “Yes?”

”I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Julian’s eyes widen almost comically, white-knuckling as he grips the bottle too-tightly with his free hand. He clears his throat, gathering his thoughts as Asra laughs. “Oh…  _oh_ ,” he breathes, words thick on the tip of his tongue. “Well… I think I’m falling in love with you too.”


	336. Julian x m!Apprentice 135.

The pain is white-hot,  _blinding_ , and all he can think about is how much sorrow his death will cause Julian. Narcissistic, maybe, but he knows how much he’s loved, and how completely he loves him in return.

He struggles to sit, pulling himself up to rest against the wall, crying out in pain as the blade drives deeper, too scared to even think about pulling it out, his fingers slipping,  _slick_  with blood as he grips the handle.

Just as he’s accepted his fate, just as his eyes flutter closed, his lungs rattling with each painful breath, he hears footsteps.

It’s a blur as cold, familiar hands cup his face, his name falling frantically from Julian’s lips. He vaguely feels Julian prying his fingers from the blades handle, then a sharp,  _piercing_  lance of pain shoots through him, jolting him into consciousness as Julian pulls the weapon free, removing his glove and pressing his palm to the wound.

Finn coughs, a copper tang on his tongue, blood streaking his chin, his clothes,  _everything_. “No!” He cries, blindly trying to swat Julian away as the dull, silver glow of the mark lights upon his throat.

”Shut up you idiot,” Julian shouts, his voice breaking, tears shining as they stream down pale cheeks. “Please,” he whispers, shoulders sagging as he takes the pain away, all of it. “ _Please_.”

Relief washes over Finn in a steady, pulsing wave, sinew and skin stitching back together as Julian slumps against him, gasping for breath, his jacket blooming crimson. “No,  _Julian_ ,” he chokes, catching him against his chest. “Why?”

Julian grips him, holds him tight as he catches his breath, looking up at him through long lashes,  _smiling._ ”Why, because I love you, of course.”


	337. Nadia x Portia 2.

Nadia winces as gentle, soothing finger brushes a stray lock of violet hair from her forehead, this particular headache truly debilitating, the touch welcome, cooling.

She hears Portia sigh, and she manages to crack an eye open to get a good look at her, the room thankfully dark, a solitary candle flickering in the corner, casting enough light for Nadia to see shadows playing across Portia’s tired, yet enchantingly pretty face.

She smiles as those wide blue eyes catch her, Portia setting down the book she’s reading and leaning forward eagerly. “Milady, do you need anything?”

Nada reaches out, fingers trembling, but she’s determined. She presses her thumb to Portia’s bottom lip, watches the charming flush that blossoms upon freckled cheeks. “Portia, you take such good care of me,” she whispers. “I couldn’t live without you.”

Portia grabs her hand, holds it in her own and squeezes. “Nor could I, uhh… live without  _you_ , I mean. I’ve found my purpose here,” she grins,  _beams_ , and Nadia’s heart soars.

”I love you, my sweet Portia.”


	338. Muriel x f!Apprentice 1.

She reaches up slowly, tentatively, watching him carefully, looking for even the slightest sign of discomfort, of apprehension.

He’s calm, steady, his cheeks a little flushed as her palm meets his skin, warm, so very  _warm_.

He leans into it, her touch more welcome than she’ll ever know, or than he’ll ever tell her. His fingers twitch by his side, and the mattress shifts beneath them as she edges a mere inch closer, head tilted.

She’s curious, gentle, impossibly kind, and he often wonders why she’s here with him, but he never questions for fear of scaring her off. Instead, he lets her sit, lets her tell him stories, watches as she listens to his, as brief as they may be.

”Muri,” she smiles, eyes dancing in the firelight, and she’s so  _beautiful_. “It’s getting late. I should…” She looks to the door, dropping her hand and her gaze, fingers toying with an errant thread on her skirt.

He longs to tell her no,  _stay_ , but he cannot. Instead, he nods gently, pressing a big hand over her small and squeezing, a glimmer of hope flashing in her wide eyes.

He walks her to the door, and she pauses, rising up onto her tiptoes, him bending to meet her as she presses her lips to his cheek. “Goodnight, Muri. Sweet dreams.”

”Goodnight, be safe.”

She lifts her hood, heading into the woods, and he closes the door, pressing his forehead against the cracked wood and mumbling a low, quiet, “ _I love you_ ,” that she’ll never hear.


	339. Julian x m!Apprentice 136.

Finn is deadly, precise, the hot,  _hard_  press of his lips against Julian’s a brand as he moves above him.

Julian had long ago learned to abandon all hope when he entered his arms, willingly surrendering, giving him  _everything_  over, and over, and over.

”Say it,” Finn purrs, thumbs digging into Julian’s hips, holding him steady, stilling the desperate writhe.

Julian tilts his head, meeting that molten, golden gaze. “Yours,” he whispers, the word honey on his tongue. “ _Yours_.”

Finn smiles, his handsome face twisted with pleasure, lips parted on a gasp, words forming but fading.

Julian reaches up and pushes long fingers into raven hair, tugging, blunt nails scratching over his scalp. “Finnegan,” he groans, wound tight, ready to snap. “I love you.”


	340. Finn x Ezra 8.

Ezra stumbles under his weight, groaning as he hoists him straight, Finn not even  _trying_ to help as he carefully guides him out of the Raven.

He swats Ezra away, trying his damn hardest to stand by himself, one hand raised in warning, a hiccup shaking him. “W-wait. I got this.”

He takes one step off the stoop, and Ezra can almost see it before it’s even happened, swiftly closing the gap between them and catching him with open arms. “You don’t ‘got’ this, Finnegan.”

Finn crinkles his nose, his mouth open, ready for a snarky comeback, but instead he pauses, a shit-eating grin breaking out across his handsome face. “You are so beautiful. Like an angel. Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?”

Ezra wants to be mad,  _really_  wants to be, but as he stares into those sparkling (albeit a little glazed) golden eyes, he sighs, his heart soaring. “You’re an insufferable ass.”

Finn quirks an eyebrow, still grinning, edging closer, their noses brushing. “Yes,” he whispers, voice low, low enough to send a traitorous shiver of awareness skittering down Ezra’s spine. “But I’m  _your_  insufferable ass.”

Then, he’s kissing him, the taste of whiskey sweet on his tongue as they sway together beneath the moonlight. When they part, Ezra is breathless, caught off-guard but enjoying it nonetheless. He gathers his thoughts, gripping Finn’s arm. “Home,  _now_.”

Finn breaks free of his grasp, annoyingly energised by the heated kiss as he skips inelegantly over the cobblestones, cupping his hands over his mouth and yelling, “ _I love this man_!” at the top of his lungs.

Ezra chases after him as he makes a break for it, unable to stop the laugher that bubbles in his chest breaking free.

Love really does make you mad.


	341. Asra x Julian 46.

Asra moves above him, bodies seamed tight, not an inch between them.

It’s frantic, a little messy, but beautiful; just so inherently  _them._

Julian bares his throat, tipping his head back as Asra sinks down upon him once again, a perfect push and pull, a slick,  _hot_  glide that sends him hurtling straight into madness as Asra’s teeth find his flesh, biting, branding him.

Asra pushes a hand into auburn curls, wild strands snarling about clever fingers as he tugs just shy of too-tight, eliciting a broken,  _shuddering_  groan from Julian, one that rumbles deep in his chest.

There’s something about the way he looks at him with those silver eyes, he way he makes him feel like he’s the only other thing in the world, the  _universe_. Like he’s  _everything_.

It scares him, and Asra longs to shake that feeling, wants to open up, let him in, give him all of it, all of him.

”Ilya,” he purrs, the now-frantic grind of his hips blinding, all-consuming, and he can see Julian falling apart, the tight twitch of sinew under pale skin as he tenses beneath him.

He takes Julian’s face in his hands, holding him steady, tight,  _tight_ , watching him intently as he cries out, Asra’s name pouring from his lips, a symphony of  _I love you’s_  over and over and  _over_  as he comes, until it’s nothing but a broken, desperate sound.


	342. Finn x Alkar 15.

”He said it, I swear on my life and both of yours!”

Ezra and Omen stare, unconvinced as Finn grips the sheet around his waist. They share a look, Ezra glancing at the locked bathroom door. “How did you get him to say it?”

Finn tugs his bottom lip between his teeth as he smirks, quirking a dark eyebrow, his eyes shining, mischievous. “Well…”

Ezra raises his hand, stopping him. “I… I can guess, thank you. No need to elaborate.”

”I could show yo—“

”Hey!”

They all spin to stare at the door, Alkar’s yell of protest snapping them from their conversation. “You said that was just for me,” he huffs, followed by the sound of something hitting the floor.

Ezra rolls his eyes, throwing his hands up incredulously. “This is stupid, I’m not standing here all night trying to get him to come out,” he huffs, taking Omen’s hand. “Come on, lets leave these two to it.”

Finn slides down the door, watching them go, sitting with his head pressed back against the wood. “They’re gone, it’s just us. Will you tell me why you ran away?”

Alkar mumbles something incoherent, apparently unwilling to divulge.

Finn flattens his palm upon the door, hearing him settling against it on the other side. “Alkar, I love you, but if you don’t come out of that  _fucking_  bathroom and let me finish what I started then so help me…” he groans. “I’m going back to the bedroom. Don’t make me wait.”

He pauses, smiling to himself. “If you say it again, I won’t tell anyone, promise.”

Then, Finn hears a faint, whispered, and not entirely unconvincing, “I love you, you ass.”


	343. Muriel x f!Apprentice 2.

Muriel shields her from the lashing rain with his cloak, creating a canopy as he hurries her beneath the shelter of an oak tree.

She wraps an arm around his waist, shivering against him as she crowds closer, hair sticking to her face, raindrops resting on long, dark lashes. “Muri, we can make it if we run.”

He shakes his head, crouching down to check her over, cupping her face with a big hand. “It’s too dangerous, the storm, and… other things.”

She winces at that, knowing the danger that lurks in these woods. She nods slowly, leaning gratefully into his touch, pressing her own hand over his and holding him there.

He smiles softly, the storm raging around them, but all he can see is  _her_.

He loses himself in her eyes, thumbs brushing over a delicate cheekbone, watching intently as her lips part.

”Thank you,” she whispers, reaching up to brush his soaking hair back from his face.

She doesn’t see him for the monster he believes himself to be. To her, he’s just a man, and he’s starting to believe that’s true.

”I love you,” she smiles, leaning forward, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, a kiss that lingers, soothes.

He still isn’t used to that, doesn’t think he ever will be, his heart beating double time in the cage of his ribs. “I love you too.”


	344. Julian x m!Apprentice 137.

Julian stares down at the cobblestones, hands in his pockets, an unbearable distance between them. ”End of the line…”

Finn has his back to him, staring at the dark shop, a cold chill rolling down his spine. He can’t look at him,  _can’t_.

He hears the shuffle of feet, the rustle of fabric. “Finn, I… the time we spent together mattered to me, however brief.”

Finn huffs a laugh, turning, the sickness that grasps him swelling,  _boiling_ and bubbling over until it’s a blind rage. But, as he lays eyes on him, on the man he loves, on the man he’d  _die_  for, all of that anger fades away.

He looks sad, impossibly so, and Finn knows he needs to do this, needs to let him find himself. He steps forward, tears pooling in his eyes as he reaches up and takes Julian’s face in his hands.

”I’ll wait for you. If it’s weeks, months,  _years_. I’m yours, always.”

Julian raises a trembling hand, pressing it over Finn’s. A single tear streaks his cheek, and he simply nods, smiling sadly as Finn releases him.

Finn wants to say it, it’s on the tip of his tongue, ready to spill, but he knows if he does he won’t be able to walk away. Instead, he takes one final look at him, leaving him with a smile, and he closes the door.

He let’s out a sharp breath, his heart  _hurting_ , a physical ache in his chest like someone had reached inside and  _squeezed_. He presses his hands to the door and whispers a broken, quiet, “I love you.”

Julian is a mirror image on the other side, whispering the same words, feeling the same pain, walking away with regret, feeling stupid, sick.


	345. Julian x m!Apprentice 138.

Siren x Pirate AU

* * *

Julian enters his cabin, locking the door behind him and grinning from ear to ear as he hears that familiar, lilting song. He’s lured in, heading straight for the steel tub that sits safely behind the dressing screen.

Every time he lays eyes on him it’s like the first time, a certain wonder, an appreciation for his otherworldly beauty, the last rays of the setting sunlight catching his scales, glittering aquamarine and gold.

He beams when he spots Julian, his still-unnerving row of dagger sharp fangs bared as he approaches. “Ilya.”

Julian crouches down, slinging an arm over the side of the tub, long fingers finding Finnegan’s beneath the water. “I missed you today.”

Finnegan cocks his head, his movements fluid, fast, his face close, messy raven hair curling about his scaled cheeks. He reaches out, webbed fingers dripping water onto the floor, over Julian’s legs, and he presses a claw to the tip of Julian’ nose, smiling as he does so. “I missed you too.”

Julian leans in at the subtle tilt of Finnegan’s chin, a signal he’d become accustomed to, and catches his lips in a kiss. He tastes salt-sweet,  _warm_ upon the tip of his tongue, and Finnegan eagerly nips at his lower lip, drawing blood. Julian hisses, pulling away and pressing his thumb to the offending cut, a growl rumbling deep in his chest as he surges back in, greedy fingers pushing into raven hair.

Finnegan breaks away, gasping, clawing at Julian’s shirt. “In. Get  _in_.”

Julian grins, dutifully obliging and climbing into the tub fully-clothed, Finnegan laughs, the sound musical, shaking his head as Julian covers him, pressing close, burying his face in his neck.

He soothes a hand down Julian’s spine, his laughter fading. “Mine,” he purrs, tongue clicking, the sound sending Julian’s thoughts scattering as he shirks the flimsy, torn fabric of his soaked-through shirt.

Finnegan’s golden eyes glow dully as his gaze settles on the perfect, purpling row of bite marks that litter Julian’s shoulders, running a clawed finger over the perfect indents. “More?”

Julian nods, groaning,  _writhing_  against him. “ _Please_.”


	346. Asra x Julian 47.

Asra never thought it would end like this. He thought he’d die old, happy, in the arms of the man he loves.

Lucio has other plans.

He can do nothing but scream, the sound that tears from his through inherently inhuman, the breath ripped from his lungs as he watches the steel slide through him like butter, Julian’s eyes wide as they glance down, fingers sliding over the bloodied blade that protrudes from his chest.

Everything around Asra flickers and fades, his trembling legs somehow carrying him forward, guiding him to the place where Julian is falling to his knees, tears streaking his deathly pale cheeks.

He reaches for Asra, scarlet stained fingers gripping his wrist, and Asra dutifully falls beside his lover. “Ilya,  _no_.”

He almost wants to laugh at the cruelty of it all, his life not having been his own for a long time now, a pawn in the Count’s sick game even without realising. He presses his hand to the sharp edge of Julian’s throat, but the spell has been broken, and there’s no fixing this.

”I… I can’t  _breathe_ ,” Julian rasps, blood at the corner of his lips, lips that only hours ago were smiling, talking his usual nonsense,  _kissing_  him.

Asra shakes his head, shushing him, cradling him in his arms, holding him _tight_  against his chest as he rocks him gently, foreheads pressed close. “It’s okay, you’ll be okay.”

The palace has descended into chaos around them, and Asra knows it’s only a matter of time until they find him too, but he welcomes it, unable to go on if this is the world he must exist in.

Julian groans, every breath an effort,  _agony_ , and yet he looks up at Asra with those pretty silver eyes and smiles, even as the life fades from his once vibrant, mischievous gaze, he  _smiles_. “I love you, Asra. I’m so sorry.”

Asra reaches out, wiping the blood from his lips with a shaking hand, leaning in to kiss him, making it count. “I love you too,” he whispers, trying his hardest not to fall apart, not yet. “Always have, always will.”

Julian’s smile widens for a fleeting moment, and as his eyes close for the last time, Asra closes his own, remembers kisses under the stars and beneath crumpled bedsheets, remembers the laughter, the joy, the  _love_. And, oh, how lucky he’s been.

__________

They find them the next day; the doctor and the witch, always together, even in death.

Their fingers are entwined, eyes closed,  _peaceful_ , as if they’re sleeping.


	347. Alkar x Lucio 5.

Alkar wakes with a start, sitting up and feeling silk sheets soft against his skin, nothing like the cheap, scratchy cotton of his own. He panics, turning and spotting the blonde-headed figure that sleeps beside him. 

How could he be so  _stupid,_ falling asleep in the palace like this. He gathers his thoughts, his head pounding as he spots the abundance of empty wine bottles that litter the nightstand, dresser, floor.  

As he moves to swing his legs over the side of the bed, cold, metal fingers curl around his arm, gripping too-tight just like he always does, a spark of awareness shooting down Alkar’s spine. “Let me go.”

He feels Lucio draw nearer, his breath warm on the back of his neck. “Why? Where do you think you’re going?” 

Alkar closes his eyes, tries to push the traitorous thoughts that flood his mind away, wanting desperately to sink back into his arms, but he knows better. “I have somewhere to be,” he snaps, snatching his arm free of Lucio’s grip and standing, frantically searching for his clothes, gathering the crumpled fabric in his arms. 

Lucio rolls his eyes, lounging back against the pillow, infuriatingly _tempting_  as he lets the sheets pool around his bare waist. “As if I believe  _you_  have anywhere important to be, my  _friend_.”

That word. Lucio  _knows_  what that word does to him, _knows_  how much it riles him, hurts him.

His hand is around Lucio’s throat in a flash, all reason forgotten, his fingers curling, choking him as he leans in, scarlet eyes flashing in the darkness. “We’re not just friends, and you fucking  _know_  it.” 

His chest is heaving, teeth bared, and he feels wild,  _unhinged_  as he releases Lucio, letting him breathe. As he watches a smile curl at the edges of his lips, he immediately regrets it. 

_All of it._

Lucio laughs, loud, manic, and it sends a chill rolling down his spine. “Get  _out_.” 

Alkar doesn’t even bother doing up his trousers as he climbs onto the windowsill, glancing back, tears hot upon his cheeks.

Lucio doesn’t watch him leave. 


	348. Conditional (Asrian)

A kiss pressed to his throat, pulse fluttering insistently as long,  _long_  fingers trace the curve of his jaw.

Asra feels his breath hitch, mind cloudy as Julian continues his exploration, this little distraction exactly what he needed today, every day.

“Ilya…”

Julian hums, lost in the feel of Asra, of soft skin, of even softer hair as he curls a strand around his finger. “Yes?”

Asra swallows thickly, tries to ignore the heat that pools in his belly, tries to remember that this is just a temporary thing, fleeting, that there are  _rules_.

He doesn’t want to break Julian’s heart.

”We should get back to work,” he whispers, not meaning it, not wanting to tear himself from Julian’s lap, his legs bracketing slim hips, arms slung over broad shoulders. He looks down into silver eyes, sees wonder and adoration shining in them, and something catches in his throat.

Julian sighs, splays his hand upon Asra’s chest, right over his heart, his touch cool, different to what he’s used to, but welcome all the same. “I suppose,” he mumbles, hand dragging down, coming to rest at the waistband of Asra’s trousers. “Or…”

Asra arches against him, a smile forming on kiss-reddened lips, all rational thought flying out of those huge stained glass windows.


	349. Study (Finn x Julian NSFW)

An uncalculated brush of fingertips was all it took to have them falling into each other’s arms, the simplest of touches pushing them over the edge, tearing their resolve to shreds.

The desk protests under Julian’s weight as Finn rocks into him, fabric pushed open and aside in a shameless show of desperation, too interested in  _feeling_  to worry about removing their clothing entirely.

Julian arches his back, propped up on his elbows as Finn pushes him back, a hand splayed upon his chest, the quicksilver thrum of his heart insistent beneath twitching fingertips.

It’s quick, rough,  _needy_ , all the worry of the day melting away as they finally chase their bliss.

Silver and crimson meets gold, and Julian can’t help but whimper at the sight of him, so beautiful,  _powerful_  above him. “Harder,” he whispers, the word breaking as Finn obliges before it’s even fully formed.

Weathered wood groans, old parchment fluttering to the ground, spilled ink staining Julian’s skin, but they don’t  _care_.

Finn slams his palms upon the surface of the desk, steadying himself as he ruts harder,  _faster_ , a breathless groan falling from parted lips as he buries his face in the warm, sweat-slick crook of Julian’s neck.

Julian reaches up, pushing long fingers into raven hair, an open-mouthed kiss placed upon his temple as his rhythm begins to falter, as white light starts to bloom behind his eyelids. “Yes,” he whispers, “ _yes_.”

Finn’s fingers find his thighs, digging in hard enough to bruise as he draws Julian closer, a breath passed from lung to lunch as they find each other’s lips, swallowing the choked-off cries of their climaxes as Finn pushes them both of the edge.

He rocks into him slowly,  _slowly_ , chasing the feeling, the tight heat, relishing in the helpless little noises it tugs from deep within Julian’s throat, the prickle of heat across his skin, the way each reverent thrust sending sparks skittering down his spine, straight to curled toes.


	350. Firework (Asra x Apprentice)

An uncalculated brush of fingertips was all it took to have them falling into each other’s arms, the simplest of touches pushing them over the edge, tearing their resolve to shreds.

The desk protests under Julian’s weight as Finn rocks into him, fabric pushed open and aside in a shameless show of desperation, too interested in  _feeling_  to worry about removing their clothing entirely.

Julian arches his back, propped up on his elbows as Finn pushes him back, a hand splayed upon his chest, the quicksilver thrum of his heart insistent beneath twitching fingertips.

It’s quick, rough,  _needy_ , all the worry of the day melting away as they finally chase their bliss.

Silver and crimson meets gold, and Julian can’t help but whimper at the sight of him, so beautiful,  _powerful_  above him. “Harder,” he whispers, the word breaking as Finn obliges before it’s even fully formed.

Weathered wood groans, old parchment fluttering to the ground, spilled ink staining Julian’s skin, but they don’t  _care_.

Finn slams his palms upon the surface of the desk, steadying himself as he ruts harder,  _faster_ , a breathless groan falling from parted lips as he buries his face in the warm, sweat-slick crook of Julian’s neck.

Julian reaches up, pushing long fingers into raven hair, an open-mouthed kiss placed upon his temple as his rhythm begins to falter, as white light starts to bloom behind his eyelids. “Yes,” he whispers, “ _yes_.”

Finn’s fingers find his thighs, digging in hard enough to bruise as he draws Julian closer, a breath passed from lung to lunch as they find each other’s lips, swallowing the choked-off cries of their climaxes as Finn pushes them both of the edge.

He rocks into him slowly,  _slowly_ , chasing the feeling, the tight heat, relishing in the helpless little noises it tugs from deep within Julian’s throat, the prickle of heat across his skin, the way each reverent thrust sending sparks skittering down his spine, straight to curled toes.


	351. First (Asra x Apprentice)

It feels… right.  _Natural_ , as easy as breathing, just like every other thing they do together.

Asra has heard stories about fumbled first times, about teeth knocking and heads butting, about embarrassing finishes and never seeing one another again, but this…  _this_  was perfect.

There was fumbling, sure, but those trembling fingertips steady as soon as they find warm, bare skin.

Lips meet, laughter is swallowed, a gasping breath passed between them as Asra is pushed back amongst downy pillows.

He looks up at him, feeling warmth heating his cheeks, his skin set alight as a hand cradles the curve of his hip, each languid roll of his hips eliciting a helpless noise from parted lips.

It’s not supposed to feel this good, is it?

he whispers Asra’s name over and over and  _over_ , breath warm and sweet against his lips, and the word has never sounded better, like honey rolling off his tongue.

Asra’s fingers find his hair, reeling him in to muffle a groan against kiss-reddened lips as he’s pushed over the edge, falling into each other’s arms when the haze has settled.

”Oh,” Asra breathes, a smile, a giggle as he buries his face against overheated skin, breathes in the salt-sweet scent of him, the air thick with magic, with  _love_.


	352. Stranger (Asra x Apprentice)

Asra watches them from afar, watches the way they move, the little things that make them  _them._

It’s easy for him to convince himself that they’re the same person, but without their shared memories what does he really have to hold on to? Flesh and bone? 

He used to gaze into their eyes for hours, to trace the curve of their lips with his fingertips, to brush their noses together, press forehead to forehead. 

All of that he could still do, but…

It was the late night walks in the market, the kisses stolen over a shared loaf of banana bread, the way they would lace their fingers together as they walked along the dock, looking out at a forgotten island and wondering what secrets it held.

All gone. 

They turn and catch his gaze, a soft smile forming on full lips, and he feels his incomplete heart flutter in his chest, idly wondering if theirs is doing the same. 

_Do we beat in-sync?_

He pulls them into his lap, shakes away the feeling of uncertainty as they sink their fingers into his hair, and it strikes him how familiar it feels, how familiar  _they_  feel. 

Warm, _home_. 

“What thoughts are occupying that pretty head of yours?” They tease, leaning in, forehead to forehead. 

He winds his arms around their waist, rests his head upon their chest, and he listens to their heart beat. “Thoughts of you,” he says. “Always.” 


	353. Great Heights (Julian x Apprentice)

She rummages in the drawers, the cupboard that she can reach, muttering quietly to herself as she seeks the sugar. “I  _swear_ …” 

She hears him before she sees him, an out of tune whistle floating down the stairs as he descends the staircase, his hair a mess of unruly curls atop his head as he emerges. “Good morn… oh. What’s wrong?” 

Julian spots her disheveled form, the pursed lips, the furrowed brow, and he knows exactly what he’s done…  _again_. 

“Ah. I do apologize,” he grins, rounding the corner to join her in the kitchenette. 

He bends to press a kiss to the top of her head, hands pressed to her waist as he carefully moves her aside. She grunts rather uncouthly, needing her fix and  _fast_ , certainly not in the mood for his morning cheerfulness until she’s had her coffee.

Julian does little to try to stifle his laugh, mumbling something about her being ‘ _adorable_ ’ as he plucks the sugar pot from the top shelf with ease, presenting it to her with dramatic flair. “My love.” 

She glares at him for a moment, but a smile plays at the corners of her lips as he wiggles his dark brows, so infuriatingly  _gorgeous_ even after little more than four hours sleep. She snatches the pot from long fingers, heaping a generous teaspoon of sugar into her mug. 

Julian watches intently as she takes her first sip, the tension falling from her shoulders as the liquid soothes down her throat. She allows herself to smile fully now, leaning against his side, letting him sling an arm over her shoulder, to pull her close. 

“There she is.” 


	354. Mine (Julian x Finn)

They walk through the maze in comfortable silence, fingers entwined as Julian leads him around a corner, his skin cool through the leather of his gloves.

He stops, and Finn can tell he’s frowning under his mask, the way his lips are pursed a charming, telltale sign.

Finn stares at him a little while he figures out whatever he’s got going on in that pretty head of his, squeezing his hand unconsciously, just… needing more contact than he’s currently granted.

_Mine. Yours._

That minor conversation plays on repeat in Finn’s head, a fleeting moment that he can’t quite banish, the flush that kissed the tips of Julian’s ears as Nazali asked the simplest of questions.

“Julian,” he mutters, tugging him from his little trance, reeling him in and catching him carefully against his chest. “Back there, with the doctor…”

Julian clears his throat, stormy silver eyes darting about, looking anywhere but at Finn. “Oh, uhm, yes?”

Finn huffs a laugh, feels Julian relax against him, as he reaches to grab his chin gently, turning his head so their gazes are locked. “I am yours, you know? You don’t have to feel strange saying it.”

Julian exhales sharply, his breath warm and sweet upon Finn’s face. “I… you are. Mine.”

“Yes, Julian. I am,” he grins, shaking his head a little, perplexed that this infuriating man can’t see just how adored, how  _cherished_  he is.

Julian returns his smile in kind, flashes his teeth, his eyebrow arched. “I’m yours too.”

Finn rolls his eyes playfully, leaning in to capture that clever mouth in a kiss, murmuring a quiet, “I know,” against warm lips.


	355. Come Clean (Julian x Finn NSFW)

“Where do you want me?” 

Finn bobs in the warm water, crimson blooms floating around him, his whole body submerged apart from his eyes. He quirks a dark brow at those words as they fall from smirking lips, slowly swimming towards the beautiful man that rests back against the wall of the pool.

His gaze falls to the way that flimsy robe has fallen off of Julian’s broad shoulders, the way that the light catches drops of water as they cascade down the center of his chest, and he’s  _devastating_. 

Finn reaches for him, fingers twining, Julian reeling him into a tight embrace, Finn’s lips finding the juncture of his throat, lavishing him with careful, reverent kisses. 

“That’s a tricky question,” Finn mumbles, words muffled against slick skin. “Where do you  _want_ me to want you?”

Julian laughs, the sound raspy, a little broken. He winds his arms around Finn, drags his palms down the bare expanse of his back, then back up, resting between his shoulder blades. “This is  _nice_ , this time alone. We don’t get this often, and I wish life wasn’t so… crazy.”

Finn meets his gaze, looking deep into those endless pools of stormy silver. He reaches up to push back wet auburn curls, cupping a big palm to Julian’s face. “Soon. Soon everything will be calm, normal. I swear it.”

He watches the careful bob of Julian’s throat as he swallows, his gaze drifting to Finn’s lips, a flush of colour staining his cheeks. “I love you,” he whispers, mimicking Finn’s touch, grazing long fingers over a sharp cheekbone. 

Finn doesn’t need to say it back for Julian to know, to know that he’s everything,  _more_. 

They meet halfway, crashing together without coherent thought, because if this is one of the last moments before they possibly meet their maker then they’re going to spend it in each others arms. 

Finn crowds closer, pinning Julian to the wall, fitting between his open legs perfectly, grinding, catching the ragged groan that falls from Julian’s lips against his tongue. Julian melts into his hold, long lashes fluttering, breath quickening, and he’s panting,  _wanting_. 

Elegant fingertips spread wide over Finn’s muscled chest, hips shifting, and he’s  _hard_ , hot as a brand against Finn’s stomach, each stuttering, wild movement sending sparks skittering across both of their skin. 

Finn litters the line of his jaw with kisses, a whispered, “I thought I lost you,” as Julian tilts his head, granting him better access to all that delicious, pale skin. 

It all floods back to him in perfect clarity, the pain, the agony, thinking Julian was dead, gone forever. He whimpers, a moment of vulnerability as he digs his fingers into Julian’s hips, yanks him closer. 

“I’m here,” Julian whispers. “I’m  _here_.” 

Their tongues tangle together, stroking deeper,  _deeper_ , lost in one another. Julian grabs his wrist, guides him to the ache between his legs, and they both curl their fingers around him, pumping languidly, Julian stuttering a broken, “ _Please_.” 

They know they have little time, this moment just a short reprieve from the madness of the masquerade, but Finn will be damned if he denies him. 

They need this, need each other, need to  _feel_. 

Julian turns in his arms, throwing him a look over his shoulder as he rests his arms against wet tile, his back a sinful bow, arched to the point of snapping as he pushes back. “Finnegan…” 

Finn finds the hem of Julian’s robe floating beneath the surface, pushing it up, up around his waist, his breath catching in his throat as he rests his hands upon the perfect curve of Julian’s ass. 

He wishes he could take his time, wishes they had forever, but they  _don’t,_ so Finn takes the unbidden urgency that’s ruling him and he runs with it. 

When he finally presses inside, when he’s finally sheathed to the hilt, he pauses, savors the wet,  _warm_ , tightness of him. Then he’s riding out the deepening rhythm of their bodies, blunt nails scoring down Julian’s back, Finn’s heart threatening to beat right out of his chest.

Julian grips the edge of the pool, white-knuckling, relishing in the sinful sound of their connecting bodies, the wet  _slap_  that echoes off of patterned tiles. 

The sun has set behind them, the room bathed in dreamy oranges and pinks, crimson chrysanthemums floating gently around them upon the water, two forgotten glasses of wine beside them. 

It’s perfect, everything Finn could ever want and more. 

Julian bites his bottom lip, catching Finn’s gaze over his shoulder, sly smirk meeting sly smirk as Finn pushes trembling fingers into Julian’s hair, tugging lightly. “Don’t take your eyes off me, I want to see you,” he purrs. 

He covers him, seamed tight against him as he leans in to catch Julian’s earlobe between his his teeth, expertly riding out the jolt of his hips as he sucks a mark against his skin.

_Mine._

Julian tilts his head back and groans, a noise that makes Finn smile from ear to ear, a noise he’s all too familiar with, his clever fingers going _tight_ in his hair. 

That ache, the blossom of pleasure spools out from the base of his spine, pooling in the pit of his stomach, and he surrenders to the sensation, unable to fight it. He pulls away with a choked-off cry, and Julian is there to catch everything he offers against his tongue, his lips. 

Finn watches him, hisses as he wraps his mouth around him, swallowing greedily, humming loudly, loud enough that it shoots straight to Finn’s core, vibrates. 

Once he’s regained his composure, he catches his lips in a sinful kiss, tasting himself against his tongue, pushing him back, lifting him with startling ease up onto the edge of the pool. His hands work him over, work him to his own completion, and Finn returns the favor,  _greedy_  as he tastes his finish. 

It didn’t matter if this was their last night on earth, because there was no greater sight that Finn could hope to see than Julian Devorak right now, in this moment. 

Full lips kiss reddened, parted, slick. Fresh bruises blooming upon his neck and chest, long lashes sweeping against the tops of cheeks that are kissed the colour of rich red wine, and he’s  _perfect._  


	356. Heartbeat (Asra x Apprentice)

Fingertips on tawny skin, the soft flutter of them making him sigh, and what a wonderful way to wake.

He turns his head upon the pillow, cloud-white hair in his eyes as he seeks her out. She laughs as she reaches up to brush the fallen curls aside, and he’s met with a smile so beautiful he feels his heart stutter.

”Afternoon, sleepyhead,” she teases, a kiss pressed to the tip of his nose.

”Afternoon?”

She traces the curve of his lips with a gentle fingertip, always touching him. “I let you sleep, you needed it.”

He groans, running a hand through unkempt hair, spreading his arm wide and offering her a place upon his chest. “Come.”

She sighs dreamily, edging closer, bare legs tangling with his own as she settles against him.

They lay in blissful silence, nothing but the sound of their breathing, of their hearts beating in-sync, as  _one_.


	357. Touch (Julian x Finn NSFW)

“It’s been… a  _day_ ,” Finn says with a smirk, hand moving to Julian’s cheek, his wet thumb wiping a streak of mud from the line of his jaw.

Julian exhales slowly but sharply, water lapping about his chest, silver and crimson gaze hooded, lashes fluttering as Finn leans in.

The kiss is warm,  _slick_ , water dripping from their hair, stray droplets sliding over their skin. Julian groans, the sound echoing as Finn tugs his bottom lip between his teeth, tongues tangled in a delicious dance.

Finn pushes him against the edge of the pool, pins him there, their robes floating elegantly with their movements, Julian’s falling off his shoulder, and he’s all-too tempting.

Finn’s mouth slips from Julian’s, travels over his jaw, neck, finding the hollow of his throat where his pulse thrums frantically against his tongue as he catches a stray drop of water. He continues his descent, sinking his teeth into the flesh of his shoulder, taking great care in making sure he leaves a mark.

Long, elegant fingers find their way into Finn’s hair, pushing, urging him to bite harder. A helpless noise forms in the back of his throat, the thrill of finally being marked,  _claimed_ , intoxicating.

Finn’s fingertips carefully move over Julian’s chest, tracing the curve of him, each delicious dip and peak of his abdomen, over his waist, the v of his hips.

He smiles against his heated skin as he runs his fingers through the auburn hair that leads him down,  _down_  until he curls them around the hardness of him, thick between his thighs.

“Finn, we should…  _unh_ …”

Finn’s answering chuckle rumbles deep in his chest, Julian heavy in his hand, his reluctant protest dying on the tip of his tongue as he runs his thumb over the crown, forming a perfect fist and stroking once, twice.

“We should  _what_ , Julian?” He purrs, nipping at his collar bone, Julian’s answering full-body shudder making him smile, smirk.

He’s so responsive, and Finn knows all the ways to make him break, fall apart. Both of them need this, need to be touched, to be lavished and  _loved._

“Let me touch you,” he whispers, looking up, studying that painfully beautiful face, watching his features twist as his fist continues its languid glide, as he slowly, carefully coaxes him over the edge.

“Y-yes,” Julian breathes, his head falling forward, wet auburn curls falling in his eyes, any tension he holds melting away. “ _Yes_.”

Finn finds a steady rhythm, relishing in the sound of the water, the sounds  _Julian_  makes, the swirl of black fabric about his waist, and he can’t take his eyes off him.

An insistent hand in his hair, fingers curling, eyes locking as Julian draws him near, his mouth falling slack thanks to the expert twist of Finn’s wrist. “Kiss me,” he groans, the words breaking,  _crashing_  against Finn’s lips.

Finn knows when he’s close, has memorized the hitch in his breath, the quickening of his pulse, the tense of his abdomen. He pulls away, forehead resting against forehead, and he watches intently as Julian spills in his hand.

His fingers tremble in Finn’s hair, groan ragged in his throat, a shudder, a shake, brow furrowed, and then he finds his bliss.

Finn smiles, wide and wondrous as he strokes him through it, his movements a constant until Julian is laughing breathlessly, squirming for him to  _stop._

“Finnegan,” he warns, lips quirked into a dashing smile, and Finn can do little to resist catching them in another kiss.


	358. Mask (Julian x Apprentice NSFW)

She turns the mask over in her hands, admiring the delicate carvings, the intricate detail so lovingly crafted by the man who brought her back to life, and she smiles, feeling… hopeful. 

Yes,  _hopeful_. 

She feels him before she sees him, Julian stepping forward to carefully take the mask from her, quirking an eyebrow in question, and she nods her permission, lifting her hair as he places the mask, tying the ribbon in a perfect bow behind her head.

He places his hands upon her shoulders and takes a step back, his gaze brushing over her face like a caress. “You look divine, my love. Asra did a wonderful job.” 

“Not so bad yourself,” she says, reaching upwards and brushing her fingertips over his lips, grateful that his mask doesn’t cover his smile. She adjusts his hair, makes sure it covers his right eye, missing the sight of it already, hoping that soon he won’t need to hide. “Shall we get ready?”

Julian nods, waiting for her to make a move, and she begins to unbutton his shirt, spreading open the fabric to bare his chest, fingertips brushing cool skin as she peels it off broad shoulders. She tries not to stare, not to get distracted, but Julian is her weakness, and all she can think about is how much she wants to be wrapped up in those strong arms, to breathe him in and just savor the fact that he’s okay, that he’s  _alive_. 

“What’s wrong?” 

She bites her bottom lip, shaking her head as he reaches for her buttons. “It’s just that we haven’t really had time alone since…  _since_ …” 

Her thoughts scatter as her dress hits the floor, as she feels his eyes on her, sees the heavy bob of his throat as he swallows, and she knows that if his mask didn’t hide his face, that his cheeks would be flushed a tempting dusky rose.

“Julian,” she whispers, voice a little wrecked already, and she can’t think straight, can’t even begin to comprehend how much she wants him. 

His gaze doesn’t waver as he reaches for his trousers, the quiet  _whoosh_  of his zipper making her shiver, and she watches intently as he discards them, quickly checking over his shoulder to ensure the tent is still laced tightly shut. “I… we should…”

Before he can finish his sentence she throws herself forward, and with a smirk she jumps into his waiting arms, Julian hoisting her up with ease, her legs winding tight around his waist. His hands grip her thighs, her hair a silky curtain around them, their masks clattering as she seeks out his lips, reacquainting herself with his taste, his smell, his  _everything_. 

He carries her to the chaise that sits in the corner, falling carefully in a tangle of limbs as he settles her against the velvety fabric, teeth knocking clumsily as they adjust themselves accordingly, laughter shared and passed between parted lips. 

Julian pulls away, pauses to admire her as his fingertips trace the curve of her waist, over ribs, ever upwards, circling a breast, over her collarbone. He whispers her name, repeats it over and  _over_ as he buries his head in the warm crook of her neck, her hands mapping the expanse of his shoulders, over the divots of his spine as he shudders against her. 

He presses a kiss to the hollow of her throat, down to the place where her heart beats frantically in her chest, her breath unsteady as he swipes his tongue over the peak of her breast, the other heavy in his palm. She shifts beneath him, as beautifully receptive to his touch as she always has been, always  _will_  be.

“Sometimes I wonder if you were created for me,” he breathes, looking up at her through the dark eyes of his mask. 


	359. Impatient (Asra x Apprentice NSFW)

She stares at the elaborate garment laid out on the bed before her, an uneasy feeling swirling the pit of her stomach.

Warm arms wind around her waist, a chin upon her shoulder, and the second she feels him she feels relief, comfort. “What is it?”

She shakes her head, turning in his arms, finding him half undressed, beyond beautiful with his hair slicked back, and she finds herself wondering how she got quite so lucky.

A second chance at a life with the man she loved…  _loves_.

He watches as she presses a palm to his chest, feeling the steady flutter of his heart. She smiles, hers beating in-sync in the cage of her own ribs, and they truly are as one.

“Asra, I’m… what if it all goes wrong?” She whispers, fingers curling against warm skin, and the thought that this second life she’s been granted could melt away into nothing is  _terrifying_.

He shakes his head, grabbing her wrist and pulling it up to his lips to press a kiss to where her pulse thrums. “It won’t. It  _can’t_ ,” he says. “I lost you once, that won’t happen again.”

A pause, a beat, and pretty violet eyes lock with her own and she’s weak, stumbling forward to catch his mouth in a hungry kiss.

The robe she’s wearing is easy to remove, falling apart with a careful tug of Asra’s fingers. He walks her backwards towards the bed, the robe slipping off her shoulders, long forgotten in a silken pile upon an expensive rug.

Eager hands find the waistband of his briefs, and with a simple tug she’s curling her fingers around his cock, stroking once, feeling him hot in her palm.

She’s desperate, ready, needs to  _feel_ , and she doesn’t need words for him to know.

She moves her hands over his shoulders, feeling muscle shift under tawny skin as he aligns himself with her entrance, filling her to the hilt with a quick, steady thrust.

Her hands travel down,  _down_  until they find the perfect curve of his ass, urging him closer, eagerly encouraging every roll of his hips.

He muffles a groan against her shoulder, hitching a thigh up around his waist, the room filled with sounds of skin on skin, of unrestrained  _want_.

It’s always been easy to lose herself in Asra. To only see him, feel him, hear him, and this is no exception.

Heat builds at the base of her spine, coiling like vines as she hurtles towards her bliss, the furrow in his brow telling her he’s feeling it too.

She reaches up and reels him in, and they swallow each other’s cries of pleasure as they come together. Asra’s rhythm falters, a stutter as he finishes, as she clenches tight, tight,  _tight_  around him.

Her hands are in his hair, fingertips soothing over his scalp as he finds his breath, careful kisses presses to the hollow of her throat.

A quiet, “I love you,” mumbled against sweat-slick skin.


	360. Masquerade (Asrian)

A shared glance across the ballroom has Julian’s knees feeling weak, a certain weight behind that look, violet eyes vivid through his golden mask. 

He takes a deep breath, colour flooding his cheeks as Asra begins to cross the packed dance floor, the lavender train of his outfit flowing behind him, and he’s never looked more elegant, more poised.

They meet each other halfway, Julian unable to stop the smile that breaks out across his lips, and a weight is lifted off of broad shoulders as Asra smiles back.

“Ilya, you look…  _wonderful_.” 

Julian clears his throat, unbuttons his jacket, and offers Asra his hand. “Don’t sound so shocked. Shall we?” 

“It’s been a while,” Asra says, almost wistful, and Julian hums his acknowledgement, drawing him into his arms, feeling bold,  _brave_ , and just bloody  _done waiting_  to feel him pressed close after all this time, all this heartache. 

Asra places a hand on his shoulder, and amethyst eyes meet silver as they begin to move. Their steps are light and quick, and it’s as if they’ve been dancing together forever, as if there wasn’t three years since the time they were last together like this. 

Like magnets, puzzle pieces, so  _right_  for one another that it aches. 

Julian feels bold, invigorated by the close press of Asra’s warm, familiar body, the sheer fabric he wears doing little to cover perfect tawny skin, gilded embroidery framing the column of his throat, making him look like a prince plucked straight from the fairy tales he used to read Pasha. 

He presses his hand even tighter against the small of Asra’s back, leading him back and forth, into a turn, their fingers gripping one another tight, tight,  _tight._

“So,” Asra says, tilting his chin, his lips quirked into a wolfish grin, “what now?”

Julian dips him dramatically, feeling slightly perturbed that Asra seems unphased by the impressive move. “Well, I was quite hoping we could talk,” he says weakly, pulling Asra upright without missing a beat. 

Asra chuckles, gives his shoulder a light squeeze, but he doesn’t answer. 

They move together for a few moments more, Julian’s cheeks growing hotter by the second under Asra’s unwavering gaze.  

He steps closer, his hand leaving Julian’s to slide up his arm until he’s clasping both of them behind his neck, not an ounce of hesitation as he presses a kiss to Julian’s lips, fingers finding their way into thick, auburn curls. 

Julian’s quiet yelp of surprise is swallowed by insistent lips, Asra deepening the kiss as much as their masks will allow. He pulls away, but not too far, white lashes flickering, and he’s never looked more beautiful. “Ilya, whatever would we need to discuss?”

“Well, I…  _uh_ …” 

Asra shakes his head, and he’s laughing, a giddy noise, a  _musical_ noise, and Julian joins him, winding both of his arms around Asra’s waist. He surges forward, emboldened, swallowing up his laughter with more hungry kisses, hands roving over his hips, over the bumps in his spine, his shoulders. 

“Don’t overthink it,” Asra whispers, lips but a breath away, his lids heavy, tawny skin kissed an enchanting shade of pink. “We’ve got all the time in the world, don’t we?” 

He moves to trace Julian’s jaw with a gentle fingertip, settling upon his chin, holding him steady so he can kiss him again, and for once in his life, Julian listens. 


	361. Dancing (Julian x Apprentice)

Strong, steady hands guide them, Julian standing tall, his hips moving in time with the music, taking them through the motions.

Their breath catches as he sends them backwards into an elegant dip, and they fall with abandon into his arms, a giddy laugh falling from their lips as he pulls them upright, nose to nose.

“Everyone’s watching you, you know,” he whispers, breath hot upon flushed skin, their fingers held tightly in his own as he sends them spinning, twisting to catch them without missing a single beat. “I can’t blame them, you look ravishing.”

They look up to catch that singular, stormy silver eye, holding his gaze. “Maybe they’re looking at you,” they grin. “I certainly am.”

Julian huffs a laugh, their movements almost second nature now, feeling natural, fluid, and it’s a crime that they haven’t danced before. He pulls them close, not an inch lost between them as they twirl, hundreds of eyes upon them, and yet all they see is each other.

He can’t seem to take his eyes off them, no mater what complicated move he’s pulling off, the perfect one-two-step of his feet enchanting, too-long limbs infuriatingly elegant as he leads them around the room.

They watch in awe, almost as if they’re an onlooker, as if they’re the noisy crowd that greedily observes the two lovers move as one, Julian’s palm a brand on their waist, the hard,  _warm_  press of him driving them to madness.

Heat prickles across their skin as his features melt into something softer,  _sensual_  as he dips them, leaning in, close,  _closer_  and everything else truly does dissipate as his lips finally find theirs.

Unashamed, no longer hiding in the shadows.

_Free._

The kiss is soft, but there’s an edge of neediness, of desperation, but it’s over before it’s really even begun, Julian’s lips curling into that irresistible crooked grin as he leads them through yet another series of pirouettes across the room.

The music changes, slows, and they let out an unsteady breath, wild,  _giddy_  thoughts skittering around in their brain.

Thoughts of many more nights like this; nights where they’re hand in hand, cheek to cheek, lips pressing insistent, reverent kisses to the column of his throat, watching colour bloom across his cheeks, a smile upon his lips, and they are happy for what feels like the first time in forever.

Because Julian is  _alive_ , and now so are they.


	362. Valdemar (Julian x Finn)

Finn feels a chill roll down his spine, the hairs on the back of his neck standing to attention as the slender, unmistakable figure emerges from amongst green leaves.

Valdemar.

He quickly puts himself between them and Julian, his hand planted firmly against Julian’s chest, holding him there. He feels Julian pressed close, safe,  _alive_ , and does all he can to banish the image of his lover laid flat on Valdemar’s table, shirt spread open, scalpel poised and ready in too-long, too-steady fingers above the column of his throat.

“You’ve got some nerve showing your face here, Quaestor, or have you already forgotten our last meeting?”

Valdemar tilts their head, the dark, gauzy fabric that drapes across the top of their mask rippling on a light breeze, and if it weren’t for the unnerving skull that stood front and centre, it might just be beautiful. “Ahh, I remember. How could I forget, Finnegan, quite a right-hook you have there.”

Finn knows that if he could see them, they’d be flashing those sharp teeth of theirs, and suddenly he’s grateful to be staring death in the face.

“Leave,” he hisses, jaw clenched tight, fingers curling in the fabric of Julian’s jacket, just reminding himself that he’s still there. Still  _warm_.

“Oh, I just wanted to see how Doctor Devorak is doing,” they chuckle, taking a careful step to the side, trying to get a better look. “Looking…  _lively_ , I see.”

Julian tightens his grip on Finn’s shirt, moving closer, and Finn glances behind him to catch those perfect lips curling into a snarl, his single, stormy eye narrowed, glistening with anger,  _rage_. “You’d be smart to listen to him, Quaestor.”

Valdemar’s steepled fingers twitch at the sight of Finn’s clenched fist, and they begin to slowly retreat back into the neatly trimmed hedge. “A shame, but you can’t be with your protector forever, Doctor. Until next time.”

As they disappear, Finn stands firm, tense until Julian steps in front of him, cool fingertips reaching up to trace the outline of his clenched jaw. “Finn, it’s okay.”

He meets Julian’s gaze and relaxes, leaning into his touch. He reaches up and grips Julian’s wrist, bringing his hand down and lacing their fingers together, squeezing once, twice.

“Sorry, I just… that was the scariest moment of my life, back in that theatre. Not only did I think you were dead, but then I see  _them_  practically salivating at the thought of cutting you open.”

Julian’s brow furrows, bottom lip tugged between his teeth, and he steps forward, closing the infinitesimal gap that separates them, catching Finn’s lips in a quick, careful kiss, one that lingers long after their lips have parted. “If you think I’m letting them near my beautiful neck ever again you’re sorely mistaken, my love.”

Finn let’s out a breath, a sharp exhale, and he smiles. “Good. I’ll happily punch them again though, I quite enjoyed that.”

Julian purses his lips, seemingly deep in thought, his mask doing little to hide his expressive features. “On second thought, I’d quite like to see you do that again,” he nods, making a show of rushing into the bushes.

Finn laughs loudly as he claws at his coat to stop him, pulling him back against his broad chest, wrapping him up. “Ass.”


	363. Always (Julian x Finn)

Finn is stirred from his slumber by an insistent hand pressed to his shoulder, a shake, his name falling from Julian’s lips in a panic.

He turns, eyes heavy with sleep, the sky still dark outside, and he’s met with a pair of wide silver eyes, a handsome face etched with worry and concern.

He sits up quickly, grabbing Julian by the wrist. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

Julian swallows thickly, nose crinkled, and he sighs, running the long fingers of his free hand through unkempt auburn curls. “I… had a dream. A nightmare!”

Finn frowns, golden eyes searching Julian’s suddenly calm expression, moving his grip to lace their fingers together. “Julian. Not again.”

Julian grimaces, offering him an apologetic, crooked smile, one Finn can do little to resist. “I… you… you left! I panicked, I’m sorry.”

Finn huffs a quiet laugh, reaching up to cradle Julian’s face in his big palm, smiling as he leans into his touch, practically purring. “We’ve been over this. I love you, I’ll always love you, and I have no plans on deserting you…” he pauses, his smile widening, “unless you continue to wake me.”

Julian looks startled for the briefest of moments, and then he’s pushing Finn down against the mattress, moving to straddle his waist in an act of defiance. “Ass.”


	364. Beautiful (Julian x Finn NSFW)

Finn watches intently as Julian finally,  _finally_  leans in, breath hot as it gusts over the tight plane of his stomach, long, elegant fingers curling around him,  _squeezing_.

He wants to groan, to keen, to buck up into his grip and feel the friction he so desires, but he waits, because Julian is being slow tonight, deliberate, and Finn is thoroughly enjoying the build-up.

The way he looks up at him, the way those stormy silver eyes lock with Finn’s burning gold, makes his breath catch in his lungs. Julian is never more beautiful than when he’s on his knees, like he’s at an altar, ready to pledge himself, to give everything he has.

Finn sucks in a sharp breath as Julian flattens his tongue against the crown of his cock, greedily lapping up those beads of precome, a satisfied sort of look on his face that says, ‘I did this to you.’

“Yes,” Finn grins, reaching out, pushing his fingers into mussed auburn curls. “ _Yes_ , Julian.”

Julian opens up, swallows him down, the shocking, blistering heat of that velvet mouth surrounding him tight, tight,  _tight._

Long lashes flicker as he lifts his gaze again, perfect lips stretched wide and pink around Finn’s cock, and Finn watches with a dazed, satisfied sort of wonder, the sight of it filthy-hot, maddening.

Julian’s free hand disappears between his own legs, the muscles in his shoulder shifting as he touches himself, the desperate little sounds that vibrate around Finn’s cock as he swallows him down truly a revelation.

Finn can’t take his eyes off the way that sinew shifts under pale skin, the way he shudders, shakes, bringing himself close right along with Finn, the swirl of dusty rose that blossoms upon his cheeks darkening with each dip, each jerk.

“So good,” Finn manages, his voice so, utterly  _wrecked_  that he sounds like he’s been screaming, that thought causing a smile to twitch at corners of his lips. “Baby, you’re so  _good_.”

Julian whimpers in response to the endearment, a weakness that Finn loves to exploit, the noise thrumming through him, vibrating. Julian’s movements quicken, and he has Finn hurtling over the edge with a choked-off, almost guttural groan as he comes in Julian’s mouth, spilling hot and fast over that talented tongue, lips glistening,  _slick_  as he pulls away.

He rises up onto his knees, still touching himself, eyes wide, silver rings around deep, dark black. Finn can’t resist leaning in to close those infuriating few inches to bring their mouths together in a gloriously hot,  _wet_  kiss, tasting himself salt-sweet on Julian’s tongue.

“Come on, baby,” he mumbles into the kiss, and that’s all it takes to have Julian coiling up  _tight_ and shuddering, come spattering across Finn’s stomach and thighs as he breathes his name like a prayer.

He sits back, and Finn takes him in, watches the way he draws his bottom lip between his teeth, the way a curl of hair falls in his eyes, the flush that covers the top of his chest like spilled red wine. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”


	365. Can I? (Julian x Finn)

Finn sits beside Julian on Mazelinka’s too-hard mattress, the springs protesting loudly with even the slightest shift.

He looks down at the floor, trying to focus on anything but the frantic thrum of his heart and the incessant prickle of heat that skitters over his skin, his close proximity to Julian almost maddening.

Julian takes a breath, a sharp inhale as their knees knock, his long fingers curling to grip the edge of the mattress. “Finn, I… you don’t have to stay in here with me if you don’t want to. Terrible sleeper, me. I’ll keep you up all ni—“

He stops, cheeks suddenly burning a bright, enchanting shade of pink as he registers the possible weight behind those words.

Finn smiles, enthralled as he meets a single, stormy silver eye. “I don’t mind that at all.”

Julian visibly relaxes as his gaze settles upon Finn’s mouth, and he returns his smile in kind.

Finn can’t quite resist, not when the tension between them is this thick, the building, undeniable attraction and connection that bubbles, spills.

He reaches out, his hand steady as it hovers a mere centimetre from the sharp curve of Julian’s jaw, fingers feeling as if his magic is about to break forth and set the whole damn room on fire. “Can I touch you?”

Julian’s gaze is heavy, lidded, perfect lips parted on a breath, and he nods.

His eyes flutter shut as Finn makes contact, long, long lashes kissing the tops of those perpetually rosy cheeks, and he unconsciously leans into Finn’s touch.

His skin is cool, soft, and as Finn sweeps his thumb over his cheekbone, Julian makes a helpless little noise, a noise of longing, of  _relief_ , and Finn quickly comes to realise that he’s do anything for this man.

Fight, kill, die. Anything.


	366. Because (Asrian)

Asra’s damnable heart leaps in his chest as he lays eyes on Julian, anxiously scanning him for injury before he crosses the room on unsteady feet, lets him fall gracelessly from the coffin and directly into his arms. 

Julian lands against him with a soft  _oof,_ and they quickly find themselves on the floor, a messy tangle of limbs upon an expensive Prakran rug.

“I’m here, Asra,” Julian murmurs, his voice pitched low, and Asra comes back to himself, not even noticing how utterly lost he was just seconds ago. He realizes that he has Julian’s wrist held in a desperate grip, trembling fingers digging into the smooth leather of his gloves as if he never intends to release him. 

Asra makes a low, desperate noise and presses in tighter, closer,  _hating_  the way his heart lurches in response to the mere presence of this infuriating man, just…  _everything_  about him, the way he feels, smells, all of it too much and yet never quite enough. 

He tries to fight the overwhelming urge to shove him down and devour him, yet struggles to decide if he wants to curl around his big body and arch into his touch instead. 

He releases Julian from his death grip, reaching up to touch his face, to feel warmth flooding his cheeks, the colour enchanting as it swirls dusky rose beneath pale skin. 

And then Asra is kissing him, lips slanting over lips again and  _again_ , no part of him that wants to break free. 

No part of him that doesn’t want this more than he’d wanted anything in his strange,  _strange_ life.  

Julian pulls away, lips kissed red, parted on a breath. “Asra, why are yo–”

“Because I love you,” he huffs, frustrated, wondering how he can’t bloody well see it. “So shut up and  _kiss me_.”

_I thought I lost you, I didn’t, so let me love you instead._

Julian obliges. 


	367. Want (Asrian)

“I… I thought you didn’t want me?”

Asra pauses, falters, his heart picking up tempo.

Julian stands close, very close, and it’s almost as if they’re each caught in the others gravitational pull.

Julian’s hand is at Asra’s waist, long fingers brushing a bare sliver of skin at his waist, heat prickling at that point of contact, thrumming.

He can feel the awareness of Julian unspooling low and sweet in the pit of his stomach, and he does want… he  _wants._

His fingertips itch with the desire to trace those sharp features, and he wonders what Julian’s lips will taste like without the bitterness of alcohol.

He doesn’t need to meet the gaze of those silver eyes to know Julian wants him too.

Blood races in his ears, the perfect curve of Julian’s lips so close, so  _tempting_ , that it really is madness that Asra isn’t already kissing him.

“Asra? Are yo—“

Asra steals his words with a kiss.

It’s an impulse, an inevitability, both of the hurtling towards this moment since the second they kissed outside the tavern, rain on their skin, cheeks flushed from the cold, or maybe the booze, but Asra hadn’t been about to chase the memory of those lips pressed against his own since.

How utterly ridiculous that he’d been denying himself this, the right to hear that soft gasp, the right to feel Julian’s fingers fist the fabric of his shirt like he’s unwilling to ever release him.

The simple rightness of their lips brushing together.

Pleasure distills down to one single moment,  _this_ moment, and Asra finally shows Julian just how much he wants him.


	368. As I Am (Julian x Finn)

They sit on the roof, a half-empty bottle of the finest scotch Finn could find passing between them, fingers brushing, longing glances exchanged.

It’s been a long, tiring,  _painful_  road to get here, but they made it.

 _Free_.

Julian takes another generous swig, his nose crinkling, his distaste obvious as the rich liquid hits his tongue. “It’s odd, isn’t it?”

Finn tilts his head, catches himself admiring the charming way in which the moonlight bathes Julian in an ethereal glow, pale skin even paler, abdcges  _beautiful_. “Hmm?”

There it is; the grin, the dip of long lashes, the enchanting swirl of dusky rose that sweeps across freckled cheeks, reaching the tips of his ears as Julian registers Finn’s unwavering gaze.

“It’s odd, the thought that I can do anything, go anywhere,  _be_  anyone I want to be now,” he muses, pausing, setting the bottle aside. “And yet…”

He edges closer, long fingers reaching, lacing with Finn’s. His breath is warm, sweet as it hits Finn’s lips, and he  _tastes_  even sweeter when they kiss. It’s… relaxed, perhaps for the first time ever, no urgency, just two people who love each other having a quiet night beneath the stars.

They break apart, but not too far, still forehead to forehead, lips quirked. “And yet?” Finn asks, curious to hear what the Doctor has to say.

Julian huffs a quiet laugh, silver eyes meeting Finn’s gold. “And yet I’d rather die…  _again_ , than be anywhere but right here, with you, just as I am.”

Finn smiles, reaching up to cup the curve of Julian’s jaw, auburn curls snarling about his cheeks as a gust of wind catches them. “Just as we are.”


	369. Ouch (Julian x Finn)

He watches over him without faltering, doesn’t sleep, won’t even  _sit_  until he wakes.

Long fingers tug at knotted auburn curls as he paces, the ache that’s settled in his chest coupled with the sickness in his stomach all  _too much_ , but it’s the guilt that might finish him off.

He would be sat up in bed, sheets looked around his waist, a flush on his cheeks as the sun pours through gauzy curtains, inevitably trying to make Julian blush, to make him smile, but instead…

Instead he lays injured, all because Julian is an inadequate doctor, partner,  _man_.

The softest breath, a twitch of his nose, and a sliver of gold meets Julian’s silver. “Julian?”

He’s on his knees in seconds, a palm pressed flat against his forehead, clammy, but not as warm as he was this morning. “ _Finn_ , can you hear me?”

A hand reaches for him, cups the curve of his jaw, and Finn smiles. “Yes, I can hear you.”

The warmth of his touch is overwhelming, and Julian can’t stop himself from leaning in to capture his lips in a desperate kiss, one that tells him exactly how much he loves him, how sorry he is.

Finn sucks in a sharp breath, and Julian quickly moves away, pushing aside crumpled sheets and checking the haphazardly stitched wound that lays jagged upon his side. “I’m sorry!”

Finn huffs a laugh, colour returning to his cheeks. “Just… be gentle.”

Julian quirks a dark brow, lips curling into a shameless grin, because how could he possibly resist? “First time I’ve heard you say that, my love.”


	370. Alive (Julian x Finn)

At the click of the lock they both crumble, meeting each other half way, clashing.

It usually begins with the barest of touches, but not tonight. Tonight they are desperate, fighting to embrace one another, Finn walking him back towards the desk, uncaring as old ink spills onto cracked tile.

Tonight all that matters is that they are  _alive_ , and thank god that Julian’s shirt is easy to remove, thank god his trousers fall open with a simple flick of Finn’s wrist.

Julian presents his neck to him and he takes the bait, greedily sucking, tongue flat and teeth eager, leaving marks that won’t fade, and the thrill of purpling skin drives him wild.

He lifts Julian, perching him on the edge of the desk, moving between his shamelessly spread legs, flattening his palm upon the bare skin of his chest, dragging down,  _down_  until his hand panders between his thighs, until the only word Julian can utter is, “ _Yes_.”

Finn watches every perfect twist of Julian’s features as he strokes him, watches the way his bottom lip turns red as he bites down to stifle a moan, watches his knuckles bleed white as he grips weathered wood.

“Look at me,” he purrs, breath catching as crimson and silver meet his gold, as he pulls himself free from the infuriating restraint of his trousers, stroking once, twice.

He fills him in one  _quick_  thrust, sinks inside right to the hilt, the ragged breath that escapes both of their lips sounding like a song, a relief.

Julian’s elegant fingers flutter upon his skin, tracing the dip and curve of his spine as Finn finds his rhythm, head lulling forward to rest against a broad shoulder, muffling his ecstasy against sweat slick skin.

It’s so easy to lose themselves like this, to forget where they are, to only feel, hear,  _see_  one another, the violent crescendo of their orgasms rendering them both speechless as they break.

They kiss quietly, reverently, only the sounds of their laboured breathing filling the small space, bouncing off stone walls, and they are both  _alive_.


	371. Who Am I? (Asra x Finn)

Finn stares at Asra intently over tea that’s gone cold, knuckles bleeding white where he grips his mug like a lifeline.

Asra is reading quietly, curled up opposite him, legs crossed in a way that only he can make look comfortable, his eyes still rimmed red from all the tears he’s shed.

Julian is still asleep upstairs, wrapped up,  _safe_  in crumpled sheets and dreaming past dawn for the first time in what feels like forever.

They might not be have been able to sleep soundly, but they leave him to rest, for they’ve all suffered traumas today.

He feels hollowed out, like he’s been cut open, his core removed. He doesn’t know who he is anymore, doesn’t know if this strange feeling in the pit of his stomach is  _real_.

It feels a lot like love, a lot like hope, long-forgotten but vivid memories of Asra curled up beside him, fingers tracing tawny skin, counting white lashes, lips finding the place where his jaw curves.

Are they all lies? Figments? Or is he truly the same person he was before…  _before_ …

Before he  _died_.

He closes his eyes, tries to shake it off, but he can’t.

He knew Julian, he knew Asra, he knew Nadia, maybe even  _Lucio_.

“Asra…” he rasps, his name a whisper as it falls from uncertain lips.

Asra is beside him in a heartbeat, on his knees, reaching for his hands, cradling them as if he’s as fragile as glass. “What is it?”

Finn exhales sharply, the touch so familiar, yet suddenly not at all. “Who am I? I’m so  _lost_.”

Asra’s facade cracks, falters, violet eyes shining with sadness as he meets Finn’s broken gold. “You’re you, Finn. You’re  _you_.”

Finn squeezes Asra’s fingers where they lace with his own, muscle memory. “You make it sound so simple. I feel things, I feel… I  _feel_  like I loved you once, I feel anger, I feel sorrow, I feel pain, but I don’t know  _why_. So, who  _am_  I?”

Asra swallows thickly, eyes shining with tears as he shakes his head, those perfect lips opening and closing, no words spilling forth.

He’s speechless, it would seem, and all Finn can do is laugh.


	372. Rain (Julian x Apprentice NSFW)

The relentless storm that hammers against the glass does little to distract them, the rain loud,  _incessant_ , and the thunder even more so. 

Julian moves behind her, the languid, teasing glide of his hips enough to have her pushing back, wanting more (always), but long fingers curl at her hips and hold her steady.

They’re pressed so close she can feel him  _everywhere_ ; on her, inside her, all of it not enough and too much all at once. 

She tilts her head in a wordless plea, a request for a kiss, and he gratefully obliges, a violent flash of lightening illuminating the sharp, striking lines of his face, and he’s deathly handsome as their lips meet.

She pulls his bottom lip between her teeth, and the groan it elicits makes her toes curl. Julian is always so responsive, the simplest of touches able to unmake him, to unfurl all the parts of him that she adores so much. 

He rewards her boldness with a hand that moves to pander between her thighs, not letting her break the gaze they hold as he touches her  _right there,_ and she idly thinks that his hands should be made illegal. 

They are rough in all the right places, and soft where it matters, Doctor’s hands that heal, but here all they do is unravel. 

Julian rests his forehead against her back as he pulls out almost completely, and she knows exactly what he’s doing, how he’s watching the way they fit together so beautifully, humming his approval as he buries himself deep with one quick movement. 

Lightening flashes again, a fork jagged across the night sky, but they still don’t notice, not when they’re like this, lost,  _wrecked_ , falling apart. 

Julian presses his lips to her ear, whispers words of affection, of love. 

He makes sure he’s holding her tight as she comes, pulling her back,  _back_ , feeling the tightness, the rush of warmth between her thighs, and he follows her over the edge, unable to hold back, not when she bows so beautifully against him, nor when his name falls from her lips like it’s a prayer, a benediction.

They catch their breath together, hearts hammering beneath sweat-slick skin, his fingers trailing a touch over her arm, up, down, watching her shudder, smile. 

They still don’t notice the storm. 


	373. Heart (Asra x Apprentice)

A touch, a shiver, a heavy sigh that echoes, her eyes sweeping over him as his fingers trace the curve of her lips.

He trails his touch lower, over her throat, lingering over the sharp line of her collarbone, down, down until his palm is flat upon her thigh.

Time passes slowly when he teases her like this, nothing but the sound of her shallow breathing, the echoing drumbeat on her heart leaving bruises against her ribcage.

His heart.  _Their_ heart, beating as one.

She can’t resist threading her fingers through Asra’s hair, feel the soft, silk strands against her skin, shifting to cradle that angelic face, so beautiful in the peach hues of the early morning skies.

“Asra,” she breathes,  _breathless_ , and he smiles, leans into her touch.

He can’t stand it any longer, the kiss he catches her with overwhelming, melting her to the core, to the point where she can’t possibly ever freeze again.

They break apart and their soft smiles are a perfect reflection, so unfathomably happy and  _free_ that she feels tears pool in her eyes.

Silence hums between them, something charged, and she’s reeling him in with an eager hand cupping the curve of his skull, claiming kiss after kiss after kiss until there’s nothing but the sound of their laughter.


	374. Afterlife (Asrian)

He waits patiently, on the surface appearing calm, steady, but beneath he’s ruined.

A chorus of ‘what if’s’ skittering manically through his mind.

_What if he doesn’t come back._

_What if he_ chooses _not to come back…_

He stands quickly, chair protesting loudly against marble, and he paces, fingers pulling at cloud-white hair, his bottom lip worried between his teeth, eyes flickering to the coffin and back again, afraid for his gaze to linger too long.

He’s so pale, too still, too  _silent_.

He hears a creak, the slightest stir, and then a gasp.

Julian bolts upright, hair and shirt askew, silver and crimson eyes confused, looking for something, anything to anchor him, to show him he’s really,  _really_ here.

The most beautiful sound he’s ever heard, the sound of a new life.

Asra finds himself stuck to the spot, but he quickly shakes himself free of his daze, reaching to help Julian get out, catching him against his chest as he stumbles.

“Oh,” Julian rasps, voice a little wrecked, dazed, but he’s… he’s…

He’s alive.

He’s alive and Asra can’t  _breathe_ , the world infinitely brighter with Julian in it, and he can’t help but reach up, to cup his handsome face in his palm, the brush his thumb along a sharp cheekbone, watching pink bloom under pale skin.

“Ilya,” he whispers, in awe, just… in  _love_.

Julian swallows thickly as the weight of what he’s been through settles upon him, but he covers Asra’s hand with his own, grateful for the warmth where he keeps it pressed to his cheek. “I’m… I’m back.”

Asra laughs, and he didn’t even realise he was crying, not until Julian swipes away his tears with a gentle caress. “You’re back. Don’t leave again, promise me.”

Julian responds by capturing his lips in a kiss, and that’s the only answer Asra needs.


	375. Home (Julian x Asra x Finn)

He’s usually their rock, their guide, their strength, so when Finn breaks down they find it hard to stomach.

There’s a quiver to his words, a waver in his gaze, and when he finally breaks they’re both lost for words.

It’s visceral, like their hearts are being torn from their chests, strong hands trembling as they reach for Asra, for Julian.

They fall to their knees willingly, wrap him up, hold him close as his sobs wrack his body, and they let him soak their shirts with his tears, let him muffle his anguished cries against their skin.

They hold him for what feels like hours, Asra blinking up at the sky as he threads his fingers through raven hair, wishing away the tears that streak his own cheeks as he remembers bloodied knuckles, sand, ash,  _bone_.

He wants to be strong for him, but everything rushes back to the surface, like an old, festering wound being pried open with no mercy.

Julian is quiet, a hand soothing over the bumps of Finn’s spine, lips pressed to his temple, a litany of simple, soothing words whispered into his ear.

_We’ve got you. You’re safe. We’re sorry._

Asra and Julian exchange a glance, a burden lifted, a pain shared, and they forgive, forget.

Eventually Finn lifts his head, golden eyes rimmed-red as he laces his fingers with theirs, squeezes. Julian asks him if he’s okay, reiterates how sorry they are, asks him if there’s anything they can do.

Finn simply smiles, shakes his head. “I have everything I need in the both of you.”


	376. Sick (Julian x Finn)

Finn feels… strange.

He’s tired, fed up,  _lonely_  to the point where he thinks he could abandon this hopeless cause he’s sacrificed everything for and just run away, find Asra and be  _happy_  again.

Easier than it sounds when the city you love is dying before your eyes.

The betrayal of Asra’s departure is raw, and he’s grateful for the distraction of this job, but it’s slowly picking him apart, piece by piece.

Watching people die, watching the ones that are supposed to be saving them not  _care_.

But not Julian.

Julian is… different, special. Important.

They may just be numbers to everyone else, but they matter to each other.

Finn drops the quill, ink splattering upon the crumpled parchment, his notes messy, a little incoherent, but Julian always seems to understand. “Julian, I’m done with this volume, what’s next?”

He’s lost in his own book, scribbling furiously, hard enough that the paper tears, long fingers in his hair, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Julian?”

He looks up, shakes off the daze he was lost in. “Sorry,” he smiles, cheek kissed dusty rose as he meets Finn’s gaze. “I was  _in the zone_ , as they say.” He winks, pretty silver eyes sparkling in the dull candlelight.

Finn is often caught off-guard by how beautiful he is, charming, kind, funny to a fault.

The stolen glances and lingering smiles don’t go unnoticed, and Finn’s heart clenches at the thought that, in another life, maybe they could have had something wonderful together.

“You need another, yes?”

Finn nods, stretching out long limbs as he leans back in the tiny, rickety wooden chair, bones clicking loudly into their rightful places.

Julian tuts loudly, placing another medical journal on his desk. “That won’t do. Here, you need to look after yourself. Good posture is important, you know.”

He makes a show of cracking his knuckles, rolling up his sleeves before he dives in, long, talented fingers working out the knots in Finn’s shoulders. Finn laughs, grateful for the quick distraction, and, honestly, Julian is good at it. “Thank you  _Doctor_ , I’ll be sure to heed your advice.”

“You’re very warm too, might want to think about taking off a few layers,” Julian muses, his flush darkening as Finn offers him a playful smirk.

Julian pats him on the arm before he wanders off, talking to himself as an idea catches him, takes hold, and then he’s lost again, hunched over his desk, brow furrowed.

His touch lingers, and Finn struggles to return to his work. What he would give to have a glass of whiskey right now, to ask Julian about his past, his family, to get to know him.

Instead he has to try and save his city.

He picks up the quill once more, his fingers shaking a little, that lightheadedness returning in kind. He coughs, a rattle, an ache, and his hand comes away crimson.

“Finn! I think I’ve found something, quickly, uhhh I need… I need volumes three to six, please.”

Finn stares blankly at the blood that coats his palm, blinking once, twice. He looks up at Julian, his vision blurred as realisation sets it, and he curls his fingers, hiding the evidence.

He stands on shaky legs, retrieving the books required, carefully placing them before the Doctor.

“I… I’ll get back to it.”

Julian doesn’t look up.

_I’m dying. I’m dead._

_I’m sorry_.


	377. Lazaret (Asra x Apprentice)

The water is quiet, calm, eerily so. He rows with purpose, a knot in his stomach that feels so vast he wonders if someone were to cut him open if they’d be able to remove his pain, to hollow him out.

Bile rises in his throat as he draws near the shore, the sands of the island appearing almost black in the pale, marred-red moonlight.

He jumps into the water, not caring that he’s soaked to his knees as he drags the boat onto the sand, nothing but the violent, hopeful thought that this is all a stupid misunderstanding, a bloody sick,  _sick_  joke.

He thought there’d be people here, doctors, but… there’s nothing. Deathly silent, the stench of smoke and decay thick in the air.

He pulls his scarf up over his nose, pulls the compass from his pocket, and he follows it.

It’s still working, the point trembling furiously as he moves, his shoes discarded behind him, sand cool between bare toes.

He searches for what feels like hours, blinded by panic, their name falling from his lips, the sound a scream as it tears from his throat. “Please…  _please_!”

He falls to his knees as the compass brings him back to the same spot, the eighth, ninth, tenth time now.

There’s… nothing. Just sand, maybe a little… a little…

No.

No, no,  _no_.

He knows, and yet he refuses to accept, so he digs.

He digs until his nails snap, crack, bleed. Until his skin is raw and exposed, until the sand is painted with drops of crimson, until he finds black.

He scoops a handful into his palm, lets it fall through ruined fingers, barely able to see through his tears, and he finds bone.

“I’m s-sorry. Oh  _god_ , I’m so  _sorry_.”

He falls forward, hands and knees, head bowed as he expels the contents of his stomach on the ground until there’s nothing left.

His throat is raw when he’s done screaming, crying, driven mad by his grief for his lost love.

They must have been so alone, so scared, and he didn’t even know.

He didn’t  _know_.


	378. Bright (Julian x Apprentice)

Julian feels the hard press of the wood against his spine as he’s pinned to the table from the force of their kisses, hands roaming, fingers tugging and tearing at fabric. 

It’s an _‘I thought I’d never see you again,’_ kind of urgency, kisses that leave marks (marks that  _stay_ ), a grip that bruises. 

They’ve never been happier, swallowing laughter off one another’s tongues, knowing they need to be somewhere else, somewhere important, but right now all that exists is  _this._

They break for air, and the smile that crosses Julian’s lips is bright enough to outshine all of the stars in the sky, the moon, the  _sun_. 

He reaches up with a steady hand, cradles their face in his palm, looking at them with such reverence, such  _wonder_ , that they almost want to shy away. 

But nothing could tear them from him now. 

“Kiss me,” he whispers, voice a little broken, lips kissed red, and they can do little to resist. 

There’s laughter as more instruments fall off the table, feet kicking them away, a clatter here, a crash there. 

Julian moves them so he’s the one in control, a man emboldened by his newfound mortality, by this new life he’s been granted. 

They reach up and trace the curve of his chest with a curious digit, loving the way he shudders beneath their touch, so receptive, so  _beautiful_. 

This is it for him now, this is his  _life_ , and what an incredible thing that is. 


	379. To Live (Julian x Finn)

Julian feels the burn of the mark upon his throat, reaching up to touch it with trembling fingers as The Hanged Man waits patiently. 

“I… I have to choose.” 

He doesn’t respond, arms folded tight across his chest. 

Julian swallows thickly, his throat sore, eyes tired, just… so, so  _tired_. 

Strange, how he’d longed for this day for what felt like forever. A day where he could be the hero, but was he ready to be the hero and  _live_? 

He’s been fully prepared to die since the day stepped foot back in Vesuvia, but now the option truly lies in front of him, he’s hesitating. 

He’s hesitating because of  _him_. Golden eyes, raven hair, a smile that could make any man or woman fall to their knees, and a heart so kind, so honest, that Julian spend every waking moment wondering  _how…_ how did I get so lucky? 

Why me? 

Then he thinks of when he forgot he even existed, so wrapped up in himself that he didn’t even notice when Finn got shipped to the Lazaret to die. Alone, afraid. 

How could he ever repent for that? He might not have known him the way he does now, but lack of intimacy doesn’t mean he didn’t have the right to be treated like a human, to be cared for. 

“I can’t go back, can I? Not now. I… I  _can’t_.” 

He looks to The Hanged Man again, hoping,  _praying_  he’ll offer some clarity, but the bird is too wise to feed his fantasies. “Only you can make that choice.” 

Julian closes his eyes, remembers their last kiss, the last embrace, the way their fingers curled together, the smell of clean cotton, the warmth of his body. 

He smiles, a tear rolling down his cheek, those memories kept safe, always at the front of his mind. 

_He’ll be safe now, they all will._

“I don’t need more time. I’ve made up my mind.”

The Hanged Man nods, and with a flare of his wrist Julian’s mark fades away, the burn no more, the  _burden_  no more. 

He’s sure he hears his name, somewhere in the distance, a pained cry, but it’s gone before he can seek it out. Just a figment of his overactive imagination, he tells himself. 

“I did the right thing,” he whispers, but suddenly he’s not sure he believes it. 


	380. Finish Him (Julian x Finn)

His feet pound the stone, legs unsteady, but he relents, nothing else mattering but getting there and  _fast_. 

The memory of Valdemar’s unsettling,  _vacant_  crimson eyes haunts him as they turn the corner, Malak swooping ahead, a loud cacophony of squawking and flapping as he circles the stage that sits in the center of the room. 

Finn vaguely hears Portia’s broken sob behind him, but all he can see is Julian, sprawled on the table, his body limp and lifeless. Valdemar looms over him, a shining, silver scalpel perfectly poised over Julian’s heart. 

Finn is lacking energy, but adrenaline drives him, a spell forming  _hot_  in his palm, and before Valdemar can even look up from the body before them, they’re flung across the room by a force that even  _he_  didn’t know he could muster. 

He would have  _loved_  to have punched them, but there’s no time for fun and games.

They twitch, slumped against a door to one of the offices, and they’re immediately ambushed by a furious Malak and a chair-wielding Portia. 

Finn leaves them too it, his heart pounding double-time against his ribs as he scrambles to reach Julian. 

He’s unmoving, perfectly still, until he’s not, his body convulsing, fingers twitching, and the mark that glows upon the sharp edge of his throat flickers and fades to nothing as he takes his first, gasping breath. 

Finn chokes back a sob, his hands upon his face in an instant, and Julian’s silver and scarlet gaze meets his gold. “Finn! I’m… I’m  _alive_ ,” he rasps, gloved fingers reaching for his throat, tentatively checking. “Remind me not to get hanged again, it’s not pleasant.” 

Finn sputters a laugh through his tears, shaking his head incredulously, and then he’s holding him, pulling him into a tight,  _fierce_  embrace. “You foolish,  _wonderful_  man,” he whispers, burying his face in auburn curls as Julian returns the hug in kind, long arms winding around his waist, fingers curling against the fabric of his shirt. 

They forget where they are for a moment, falling back against the table, Valdemar’s instruments scattering to the ground as Julian settles upon creaking wood, Finn comfortably poised above him. He looks down at Julian, and he can’t help the ridiculous grin that crosses his lips. “You’re _alive_.” 

“Make it count then, yes?” Julian teases, thick eyebrows wiggling suggestively as he grabs Finn by the collar and yanks him close, their relieved laughter muffled against one another’s lips, Finn greedily swallowing the sound with a kiss, a kiss like no other. 

It’s like the first time, like coming up for air, like,  _like_ …

It’s like  _heaven_. 


	381. Breathe Again (Asra x Aurora)

Through the haze of her tears she sees him cry. 

It’s foreign, disarming, and yet he looks so  _beautiful_ she almost forgets her pain.

Asra kneels before her, trembling fingers buried deep in sand the colour of ash, tawny cheeks streaked with unrelenting tears. “I kept digging, I knew what I would find and yet… and yet I couldn’t bring myself to stop until I found proof.”

He looks up, lets the grains fall through his fingers, and her heart shatters, but she’s numb to it now, to her own pain, and all she can feel is  _his_. 

She reaches out, taking his hand, guiding him to stand on unsteady legs. “Asra,” she whispers, her voice a broken, wrecked thing. “ _Breathe._ Here…” 

She laces their fingers together, pressing their joined hands over her heart, over a heart that  _beats_. They stand, forehead to forehead, the soothing thrum of it steadying his ragged, gasping breaths, his tears subsiding until all that’s left are glassy, violet eyes. 

“You were so alone,” he rasps, so quiet she almost doesn’t hear. 

She shakes her head, swallows away the bile that creeps into her throat. She  _was_  alone, she  _was_ scared, the vivid memory did well of reminding her of that, but now…  _now_  she’s strangely okay.

As long as she has him. 

“After everything I did, you’re here. You’re _alive_.” He looks at her with such reverence, such wonder, that she almost can’t breathe. 

“I’d do the same for you, I’d do  _anything_  for you,” she says, reaching up to wipe his wet cheeks, to catch a stray tear with her thumb. “You talk about darkness, but all you bring is light, don’t you see that?”

A ghost of a smile forms on his lips, and she can’t help but smile in return. 

He opens his mouth to speak, but quickly thinks better of it, dropping his gaze from hers almost shyly. “I…” 

Her thumb drifts from his cheek to his lips, tracing the curve of them. “Tell me.” 

She watches the heavy bob of his throat as he swallows, and their gazes lock, tears pooling in his eyes once more, but she can tell they mean something other than pain. “I love you.” 

She watches his shoulders relax as her smile widens, as her eyes sparkle, tears that match his own spilling down her cheeks. “I love you too.” 

He exhales sharply, as if he was holding his breath the whole time, relief washing over him, his smile wide, the widest she’s ever seen it, and he pulls her into a fierce embrace. “Oh god, you have no idea…  _no_  idea.” 

He buries his face into the warm crook of her neck, his nose in her hair, arms winding about her waist, holding her tight, tight,  _tight,_ breathing her in. 

And she’s finally, finally _alive_. 


	382. No Light (Finn)

Finn comes-to, his throat tight, dry, vision blurred and marred red. 

He can’t  _breathe_ , but he hasn’t been able to for a while now. The suffocating stench of death and decay surrounds him, and he’s vaguely aware that he’s being moved, carried by cold hands, glassy red eyes staring down at him, people with no faces, only masks. 

He wants to scream as they settle him upon cracked wood, but the sound won’t form, he’s too weak, too… _too_ …

He’s done. 

He’s done fighting, done trying to survive this.  

So, he lies still. He clutches the board as tight as he can, and he dares himself to watch. To watch as the smoke rises around him, to feel the flames lick at his fingers and toes. 

Poetic, he supposes, that the flames that were once his friend, his  _strength_ , are the things that will consume him in the end. 

The heat is unbearable now, but the steady burn almost feels like freedom. 

All he can think of in his final moments is how  _sorry_  he is. 

For Asra, for Julian, for the people he won’t get to save. All of it. 

“I’m sorry…” 

And then there was nothing. 

No light, no life, just  _death_. 


	383. Salt (Asrian NSFW)

Asra’s lips are a thing to be worshipped, Julian decides, watching intently as they curl around the crown of his cock.

He grips the arms of the chair, knuckles bleeding white as Asra takes him in, all of him.

He resists the urge to arch his back and push further inside as Asra pulls away, hooded violet eyes catching his reverent gaze for the briefest of moments, his white lashes stark against lightly flushed, tawny cheeks as they flutter closed.

Julian groans, and Asra smiles around him, so pleased with himself, with the way he’s unmaking him.

He’s a force, sinful,  _deadly_ , and with just a few simple words or a well-placed look he always manages to have Julian on his knees, even when he’s the one on the ground.

”C-close,” Julian stutters, fingers twitching against the wood, longing to push into that soft hair and  _tug_ , but he knows better. Knows who’s in charge here.

Asra pulls back, holds him in his hand and strokes him in a slow, slick glide, those perfect lips swollen, glistening. “Ilya,” he purrs,  _smirks_ , and the sight of that sends him spiralling.

Asra catches his come on the tip of his tongue, on open lips, greedily lapping up every last drop like he’s thankful for it.

He exhales sharply, catching his breath, tilting his head curiously as he rises from his knees, moving to straddle Julian’s waist, a hand in auburn curls.

He leans in close and catches his lips in a ravenous kiss, and Julian tastes himself on the tip of his tongue.


	384. Cold (Julian x Finn)

He should have stopped him.

Even standing in front of a crowd of hundreds waiting to watch him meet his end, Julian was alone in that moment, and Finn would never forgive himself.

“No,” he says, the word tearing from his throat, the first since he watched him die, and he’d be happy to never speak again, but the sight of Julian laying lifeless demands more than silence, “no.  _No_.”

He vaguely registers Asra’s presence, a warm hand tentatively placed upon his arm, and Portia is in the corner crying quietly, dignified but broken, both of them watching him fall apart.

He reaches out, trembling fingertips tracing the lines of his face, a face he’s memorised a thousand times, a face that brings him joy, comfort. He’s felt cold before, Julian is always cold, but not like this.

“Julian,  _please_.” He watches, waits for those lips to curl into a smile, for impossibly long lashes to flutter, for his nose to crinkle. “Wake up.”

He should have stopped him.

He leans over him, resisting the urge to climb onto the mattress, to lay beside him, to keep him warm the way he had so many times, a joke between them, snow and fire. Instead, he brushes away the delicate strands of hair that curl across his face, imagines there’s a dusty rose kissing his cheeks instead of violent white.

Forehead to forehead, and he reaches for his hand, a broken sob tearing from his throat when deathly cold fingertips don’t squeeze his in return.

Julian used to smell rich, like leather, like petrichor, like  _home_. Now he smells of iron, of copper, of cold. “Julian…”

He says it over and over and  _over_ , as if whispering his name will lure him back from the other side, bring him back to life. He shuts his eyes, his jaw clenched, tears finally falling as he catches his lips in a kiss that’s not returned.

Asra and Portia still say nothing, and Finn feels selfish. They are suffering, they too have loved and and lost.

He feels his heart hammer within the cage of his ribs, the incessant ache of it, a weight and a grief he’s felt before, one that he’d hoped he never would again.

“Finn, we need to… to wait a little longer,” Asra whispers, his words unsure, a hand resting between Finn’s shoulder blades. “Please…”

The sound of his voice breaks Finn further, the rawness of it, he’s trying so hard to hold it together, and yet Finn can hear every skittering emotion in those few simple words.

He opens his eyes, but Julian’s remain closed.

That’s when he decides.

Just… one more smile, one more kiss, the sound of his laughter, a single breath that they so often took for granted. He’d give anything,  _anything_ …

He hears Asra’s sharp inhale, realisation setting in as magic gathers around him. “Finn…  _don’t_ ….”

But it would be so easy, wouldn’t it?

The stench of ozone crackles in the air, the hairs on the back of his neck rising, standing to attention, but then he thinks of the vacant eyes of his parents, the stench of blood, the pain that followed, and he lets the spell sputter and fade.

“I’m sorry,” he rasps, not sure if it’s for Asra, for Julian, maybe even for his parents.

No one speaks now, only silence littered with quiet, choking sobs.

_He should have stopped him._


	385. Bite (Julian x Finn)

“Here?” 

Julian feels his flush spread from his cheeks to the tips of his ears as Finn runs a finger over the column of his throat, a burning red he can’t seem to be rid of these days. 

“Y-yes.”

Golden eyes flash, mischievous,  _deadly_ , and Finn is enjoying this far too much. 

Finn threads his fingers through those thick, auburn curls and  _tugs_ , tilting his head to the side, exposing the perfect, pale expanse of his throat. A broken groan falls from his lips, an almost desperate noise. “I’m going to make you mine,  _Devorak_.” 

Julian rolls his hips, his breathing labored, already teased to within an inch of his life, and he can’t handle the suspense. “I’m already yours.” 

“Yes, but,” He kisses along the edge of his jaw, drags his earlobe between his teeth, leaving a trail of kisses down his neck. “I want everyone to know, to  _see_.” 

Finn’s hands move over his shoulders, down his arms, lacing their fingers together, their lips meet in a crushing, _claiming_  kiss. His walks his fingertips down the centre of his chest, over his ribs, a hand slipping between them, wrapping around the base of his aching cock.

Julian cries out, the warmth of his palm, the perfect curl of his fingers all too much, his toes curling against the sheets as he bends his knees, heels digging into the mattress. “Then  _get on with it_ , I beg you…”  

He feels Finn smile against him, lips twitching briefly before he’s kissing him again, this maddening man, knowing all the ways to unmake him, to make him squirm.

Finn is many things to him, his friend, his lover, his savior, and now he’s about to be the death of him too. 

His teeth nip at his throat quick,  _harsh_ , his tongue laving over the mark he leaves. He dips back in, a devious cycle of kiss, bite, lick, repeat, and the only sound Julian can manage is a sharp inhale, a whimper that swiftly dies on the tip of his tongue as soon as Finn’s teeth find his flesh again. 

Finn’s hand works him slowly, a perfect glide, his thumb teasing over the crown. The measly thread of control that Julian has managed to hold onto nearly snaps when Finn’s pulls away to lock eyes with him and licks his reddened lips.

The way Finn is looking at him, eyes hooded, drunk on lust,  _ravenous_  as he surveys his work, his art. He groans at the sight of it, his hand still pumping Julian slowly, reverently. “ _Fuck_ , Julian. You turn the prettiest shade of purple.” 

Finn returns to his canvas, his lips moving over his chest, the same cycle, the same harsh sting of pain before it’s replaced with the soothing glide of his tongue. 

“F-Finn, I have to –  _Finn_ ,” the words get caught in his throat, tangled, broken. 

Finn ignores him, quickening his movements, teeth sinking that little bit deeper as Julian tenses beneath him, the heat of his tongue unbearable as it swipes over the perfectly formed welts. 

Julian’s head falls back against the headboard, eyes closed as he comes over his stomach, Finn _right there_  to catch it with his tongue, and he opens his eyes just in time to see him with a finger pressed to his lips, a look of satisfied bliss etched across that too-handsome face as his licks his digit clean. 

He sits back, appraises his work of art, offering Julian a sly grin, and he’s never seen anything so  _sinful._  


	386. Don't (Asrian)

Asra can’t seem to tear his eyes away, not when Julian’s lips move frantically to whisper last words that no one will hear, not as the rope tightens, and definitely not as the floor falls from beneath his feet.

He lays upon expensive sheets, paler now, a macabre blossom of purple and blue circling his throat, and he looks at peace

Asra reaches out with an unsteady hand, his throat tight as he presses curious fingertips to the place where the mark once glowed. He can feel the change in his skin, and he’s always been cold, but now it’s too much, unreal.

He has the urge to cover him in the mismatched blankets they used to watch the stars upon, to wrap him up in old, crumpled bedsheets that smell like sunshine as the morning light streams through the open window upon the bed they used to share.

He wants him  _back._

His Ilya.

He reaches out to brush back the hair that curls about his cheeks, his forehead. He’s so handsome, perfectly imperfect, but he’s too  _still_.

Julian is fitful in his sleep, always tossing, turning, too-long limbs flailing on the side of the bed that certainly isn’t his, but Asra would give anything to curl up beside him right now and feel the infuriating shift of the mattress, to listen to his frustrated sighs.

They’ve shared so much together over the years, but this Julian had to do alone.

He leans close, pressing gentle lips to his forehead, his eyes, his cheeks. He pauses when he reaches his lips, afraid to know what it feels like for Julian not to kiss him back. “Please come back to me,” he murmurs, “I love you, Ilya.”

Then, Asra sits, and he waits.

A soft sigh, a groan, the soft rasp of his feet moving against the mattress as he turns, and Asra’s chest  _aches_ to see him breathe, the steady rise and fall of his chest the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

His voice is thick, raspy, and Asra will never forget the way he says his name as we wakes, reaching out, fingers finding fingers, and he’s warm again.


	387. Panic (Julian x Finn)

He can see he’s panicking, from the tense set of his broad shoulders, the drawn brows, to the way his fingers tremble.

“Julian, come here.”

Julian looks up, their gazes locking, and a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes crosses his lips. “Really, I’m okay.”

Finn shakes his head, reaching for him. He carefully takes his hands, pulling off his leather gloves one by one. “I know you, even though you say I don’t, and you’re not okay. Come…”

Julian lets Finn lead him to the bed, tucking too-long legs beneath him as he takes a seat upon the mattress.

“You need to breathe. Here.” Finn takes one of his hands and places it over his heart, holding it there, his thumb rubbing soothing circles upon perpetually cold skin. It thrums steadily beneath their joined fingertips, and Finn leans in.

They sit still, quiet, forehead to forehead, lips but a breath apart, breathing together.

After a few moments like this, Finn reaches out and splays his palm upon Julian’s chest, smiling as he shudders, as he feels Julian’s heart beating in-sync with his own, the once frantic thrum calming to a steady, even pace.

“Finn…” Julian whispers, his lashes wet, a single, stray tear tracing lightly flushed cheeks.

Finn shakes his head, edging closer, Julian’s lips soft, pliant as he catches them in a brief kiss. “No, don’t. Everything will work out.”

Julian looks at him in a way that shakes him to his core, in a way that makes everything around them fall away.

Finn feels himself falter, his love for this man utterly overwhelming, and suddenly he’s terrified.

He wraps his arms around Julian’s neck and pulls him close, burying his face in the warm, safe crook of his neck, fingers toying with the soft auburn hair that curls at the nape of his neck.

“I love you, and everything will be fine.”

_Everything will be fine._


	388. The Hanged Man (Julian x Finn)

The curse hasn’t failed him yet.

He’s been beaten, bruised, bloodied, and he’s always shrugged it off with a smile thanks to that now-familiar little burn that glimmers upon the sharp edge of his throat.

Then why is he terrified? Why do his always-steady hands  _shake_  in his shackles?

Bile rises in his throat as the guards position him above the trap door, as they sling a heavy ring of rope around his neck. It’s tight, and he almost smiles, a joke on the tip of his tongue that only Finn would get.

_Finn._

Ah. There it is. There’s his reason, the reason for his fear, the reason he’s suddenly so desperate to  _live_  for once in his miserable life.

He seeks him out in the crowd, and it’s so easy to spot him when he can feel their hearts beating in-sync. Silly, but he’s convinced it’s true.

His life, his love, the other half of his soul, his  _everything_.

_I want to stay._

_____________

Finn’s breath catches in his throat as silver and crimson lock with his gold. He’s far away, but close enough for him to see the pain that lingers on his lovers face, the apprehension, the _guilt_.

He clenches his fists, his fingernails digging in to the meat of his palm. He’s scared too, and he’s lost too much in his life to just let this perfect thing that he’s fought to keep flutter away like this.

It’s too late now, though. Too late to stop it, maybe too late to  _save him_ , because Julian surviving this would be too kind, and the universe doesn’t work that way.

The dread that builds in the pit of his stomach reaches a crescendo as the guards step away from him, and the flash of auburn curls that snarl about sharp cheeks on a breeze makes him smile, if only for a second.

Julian sees, and he smiles back, a look exchanged, an, “ _I’ll see you soon_.”

Finn promised himself he’d watch until the end, because it’s not real, it’s just a temporary thing, a necessity.

But as he hears the creak of the trap door open, the swing of the rope, and the gasp of the crowd, he closes his eyes.

He closes his eyes and he cries for lazy mornings in sleep-warm sheets, for entwined fingers in the market, for hungry kisses outside the raven, for every second that he loved Julian Devorak.

The Hanged Man.


	389. Everything (Asra x Apprentice NSFW)

He gazes up at her as her fingers toy with the heavy gold ring that sits at the centre of his chest, smirking as it snaps and crumbles under her eager grip. “Oh, what a shame.”

They pause, breaths held, lips parted as they gaze into each other’s eyes, the weight of what they experienced today finally crashing, washing over them as they find one another.

It’s all greedy hands, fumbling, fabric a forgotten pile upon the floor because  _how dare it_ separate them for another second.

The kiss is urgent, and she loves how he always tastes so sweet, like too much sugar in her tea.

His hands are firm on her waist, travelling over the perfect curve of her, feeling the weight of her breast in his palm, as her hips moves against his own. He meets her halfway, arching up, up, off the mattress.

He needs this more than she could ever know, needs  _her_.

Asra is eager to deepen the kiss, wants to feel all of her, surround her, and he breathes her in, tongue slick against tongue. He’s exploring her body as if he’s never had the chance before, as if he’ll never have the chance again, an unbidden urgency burning between them.

They don’t need words now, not when they’re this lost, not as she reaches between them and positions herself over his cock, sinking down, down, Asra filling her up,  _perfect_ , like puzzle pieces, made for one another.

She steadies herself with a hand flat against his chest, the other pushing into cloud-white hair. He watches her intently, awestruck, enchanted as she begins to move above him.

It’s urgent, no time to waste, and his fingers reach out to find the spot that unmakes her, dancing in circles, relishing in the way her head falls back, her hair tumbling over her shoulders, down her back.

His name falls from her lips, and it sounds a lot like a plea, a  _prayer_  as she tightens around him, a deep, dark flush of arousal spilling from her cheeks to her chest, and it’s like nothing he’s ever seen.

 _God_ , how he loves her. He loves her but he can’t tell her, can’t say it out loud. A curse, a burden that he has to carry, the weight of it almost crushing him in moments likes this. So, instead, he shows her, shows her that she’s everything to him, his world, his life, his  _heart_.

His hips rise to meet hers as she begins to falter, her orgasm cresting and fading, and he reaches up to splay his hand over her heart, feels the frantic, comforting thrum. He trails his touch up, fingertips tracing the line of her jaw, his thumb pressed over her lips, and he sees stars when she smiles down at him, a lazy, perfect thing.

He comes with a a choked-off cry, and she collapses against him, laying side by side in a bed they’ve shared so many years in, the breath returning to their lungs.

They look at one another, cheeks kissed pink, lips bitten red, and he swallows away the lump that forms in his throat, reaching up to brush a stray sprang of hair from her cheek. “Everything. You’re my  _everything.”_


	390. Vines (Julian x Finn NSFW)

Julian is laughing, showboating, the dramatic swipe of his arm as he mimicks a swordfight that  _maybe_  happened making Finn clutch his sides, his laughter shaking him to his core.

It all happens in an instant, and the strangely carefree mood slips and shatters, and Finn doesn’t even manage to finish calling his name in warning before Julian disappears over the top of the staircase.

“ _Shit_.” Finn runs, his heart hammering double-time in the cage of his chest. “Please be okay,  _please_  be okay…”

He finds Julian nestled in the centre of a pile of curving vines, his eye wide, but the shock quickly fades as their gazes lock. “I appear to have gotten a little tangled.”

The smirk he offers Finn is nothing short of sinful, his eyebrow quirked suggestively as he curls long fingers around the vines, giving them an experimental tug.

He twists his body, winding himself into a provocative position, his back arched into a perfect bow, that flimsy white shirt spread open, all the hard lines of his muscle on show, drawn tight, tight,  _tight,_ sinew shifting under milky-white skin. “This feels familiar,” he muses. 

Finn tries (and fails) to bite back the whimper that rolls off his tongue as he appraises him,  _tries_ to remind himself where they are, what they’re here for, but now all he sees is an opportunity too good to pass up.

“ _Finnegan_ ,” Julian purrs, impossibly long lashes fluttering, that  _damn_  smirk still plastered across full lips. “Are you just going to stare, or are you going to do something about this?”

He moves his hips  _just so_ , the writhe enough to have Finn’s already devilish thoughts skittering. “Julian…” he says, a hint of warning in his tone, but he knows he’s already lost,  _helpless_  for the man he loves.

Finn steps forward, gripping the vines that twirl around Julian’s wrists, and he  _tugs_ , watching the way every vine that cradles the curves of his body tighten.

Julian groans shamelessly at the squeeze, his thighs parting further in invitation, Finn placed comfortably between them as he reaches to push the fabric of Julian’s shirt back off his shoulders. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” he rasps, running his nose along the sharp edge of Julian’s jaw, down,  _down_  the line of his throat.

He breathes him in, the clean cotton and leather musk of him, and the thought that this could very well be the last time they get to touch each other like this blinds him. He sinks his teeth into the flesh of Julian’s exposed shoulder, just how he knows he likes it, and he smiles against heated skin as Julian tips his head back, wordlessly begging for more, more, always  _more_.

Julian twists again, seeking friction like he’s touch-starved, like he’s  _drowning_  and Finn is there to help him break the surface. Finn pulls away and watches as the marks lights up the edge of his throat, but the trail of purpling bruises he’s kissed into Julian’s skin remain perfect, untouched. 

He lets any errant thoughts fade away, too distracted by the hard press, the  _ache_  that lies firm between them. He drags his hands down Julian’s exposed chest, grinning as Julian shudders,  _quakes_  beneath his fingertips. “Do you still need saving?”

Julian is panting,  _desperate_ , his cheeks kissed an enchanting dusty rose, his bottom lip firmly fixed between his teeth, bitten red. “What do you think, my love?”

Finn growls as their bodies press close,  _closer_ , seamed tight, not an inch between them, and not even the harsh bite of the thorns that litter the vines and press snugly against his skin can stop him now. He lets his hands wander further,  _down_ , his expert touch pandering between Julian’s thighs, tracing the outline of his hardness that strains agains the fabric of his trousers, watching him fall apart as he begins a languid glide. 

“Please…  _Finn…_ ”

Finn smiles, loving the way his name sounds as it falls helplessly from Julian’s lips, and then he’s stealing his words, swallowing his quiet moans, catching them with a kiss, a kiss that’s all tongue and teeth and unbidden  _desire_.

They’re both panting now, desperate for it as they grind against one another, and the rasp of fabric and the heavy creak of the vines as they protest their movements is invigorating.

Julian falls apart quickly, and Finn pulls away to watch, to watch him come undone by his hand, by his body. He shudders, his head lulling forward to rest upon Finn’s shoulder, his gloved hands balled into fists as he lets go, the telltale relief of his release written all over his face. “Oh…  _oh_.”

Finn grips Julian’s chin, tilts his head and holds him steady, their gazes locked, silver and gold. “ _Now_  do you want to be saved?”

Julian offers him a crooked, lazy grin. He’s boneless, beautifully sated. “Oh, but you already saved me, long, long ago.”


	391. Window (Asrian)

Infuriatingly, Asra doesn’t stir when Julian lands with a  _thud_  upon his bedroom floor, not even a twitch. 

His eyelids are dancing in his dreams, white lashes a fan upon tawny cheeks, and Julian allows himself this moment of quiet to just… watch him. 

He looks so peaceful, so content, it almost seems cruel to wake him, to lull him from whatever fantasy is playing out in that fascinating mind of his. 

Julian wonders if he’s dreaming about him. 

He reaches out, gently brushing a lock of cloud-white hair back from his face, his skin sleep-warm and soft. Julian sighs, settling on the mattress beside him. “Asra…” 

Asra mumbles quietly, something incoherent, and he unconsciously edges closer to Julian, smiling, eyes fluttering open just a crack. 

“Ilya?” He sits up quickly, and Julian tries his hardest not to stare, the golden, perfect planes of his bare chest on show as the sheet falls around his waist. “Is there a reason why you’re crawling through my window at this hour?” 

Julian smiles as he yawns, his mouth forming a perfect ‘o’. “It’s eight in the morning, Asra. We need to get going, I tried knocking…” 

Asra sighs, rolling violet eyes as he sinks back into the crumpled, inviting sheets. “Too early, Ilya. Please, a few more moments of peace before I have to think about stepping foot in that wretched palace again.” 

He slings an arm over Julian’s waist, pulling himself closer, burying his face against his coat. 

Julian can’t resist him, he never can, so he’ll face Lucio’s wrath today, just for five minutes of this…


	392. Make Me (Asra x Apprentice)

Asra is bored, and when Asra is bored he likes to toy with her, rile her up.

She’s so pretty when she’s annoyed.

He watches her quietly from his spot amongst a pile of haphazardly strewn, mismatched pillows and blankets.

He watches the way her hips sway in time with music that plays only in her mind, watches as she leans in to press a kiss upon Faust’s head where she’s curled up on the countertop.

With a flick of his wrist, she jumps, yelps, the cold burst of magic he’s summoned skittering down her spine.

She purses her lips, turning to throw him a deadly glare. “Asra…”

He plays innocent, shrugging, his arms firmly folded across his chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She rolls her eyes and returns to her re-arranging of the spice shelf.

He does it again, unable to contain his laughter as she spins to face him, her cheeks blooming a delightful dusty rose. “Asra! Stop!”

“Come here and make me.”

She freezes, her annoyance fading into something else, something playful.

This time he’s the one yelping, begging for mercy as she leaps into his lap, tickling him to within an inch of his life.


	393. Dream (Julian x Finn NSFW)

Julian’s wakes to the feeling of lips pressed against the sleep-warm skin of his chest. He looks down to find an apparently impatient Finn crawling over him, greedy hands roaming over Julian’s ribs, waist, settling at his hips.

He makes a helpless, broken sound as Finn hooks a finger beneath the waistband of his briefs and tugs, smirking up at him and making his heart skip a beat as blown-black eyes meet Julian’s sleepy silver.

“ _Unhh_ … good morning,” Julian groans, his head falling back against the downy pillow, fingers fisting crumpled sheets as Finn flattens his tongue and licks a stripe from base to tip of Julian’s half-hard length.

Finn growls, the taste, the  _smell_  of him even better than his dream had promised. “I had a dream, quite vivid,” he hummed, dipping back down for another taste, kissing the crown, lapping up the wetness that pools at the tip. “I tried to let you sleep, but I couldn’t stop thinking about you naked, about  _this_.”

Julian laughs breathlessly as Finn takes him right down to the root, pushing long fingers into inky black, sleep-mussed hair and guiding him with his gentle, expert glide. “I’m certainly, oh,  _fuck_ … not complaining.”

Finn hums around him, hollowing his cheeks, his eyes still firmly fixed on Julian’s face, watching the flutter of his lashes, the flush that spreads across his cheeks, the way his lips fall open, and the sight is better than any dream could ever portray.


End file.
